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The Psychology of Attraction

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You tried your hardest to get out of having to take Psychology. You’d heard that the teacher was constantly hungover, incompetent, and a bit of an ass. For you, the teacher/student dynamic was integral to your success in a course. However, in spite of your efforts, you were forced to take the class. So there you were, sitting in a desk at the back of the class on your first day of community college. You sat with one of the few friends you had made during introduction week, Britta.

“I really don’t want to be here. I can’t believe I couldn’t get out of this damned class,” You complained.

“Well, I’m here with you, Y/N. If he’s as hungover as everyone makes him out to be, this should be a relatively easy class,” she said, trying to console you.

And with that, he stumbled into the room, hair astray, shirt buttoned unevenly, and (you assumed) the faint stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Alright, class, um- let’s start with hello, I guess,” He managed to make his way to his desk at the front of the room and slouch down on the front of it.

Shit. This is going to be a hell of a class, you thought.

“I am your psychology teacher, Professor Ian Duncan, the creator of the Duncan Principle,” he said.

The rest of the class dragged on for what felt like hours. When the bell finally rang, you grabbed your books and dashed out without even a sideways glance at Duncan.

But, after a couple of classes, you began to see past his drunken exterior to what lay underneath: just a lonely, nerdy, self-loathing Brit. You began to find yourself thinking about what he’s like outside of the classroom, and what his ass would look like in tighter pants. He may not have been conventionally attractive, but there was something about his eyes and his smile that was alluring. Psychology quickly became your favorite class only one week after having declared to Britta that it would be Hell on Earth.

One class not long after the start of school, the two of you shared impassioned glances, with him quickly looking away as you would turn to catch him staring. Looking at his furrowed brows as he sat grading tests, you couldn’t help but cross and uncross your legs in an attempt to relieve the growing heat between your thighs. As the final bell of the day rang, you quickly gathered your things and headed for the door, desperate to get home to be able to touch yourself freely while thinking of Duncan. But suddenly –

“Y/N, could you stay back for a minute please, I would like to talk to you about something,” Duncan said, still poring over his papers. You sighed as you turned to go sit at his desk, wanting desperately to be at home with your vibrator, your fingers, anything. You sat in front of Duncan’s desk as the class finished filing out. He looked up from his papers and studied your face. You knew that you were probably bright red; you really couldn’t help it.

“Why did you try so hard to get out of my class?” Duncan asked with a slightly hurt tone.

You’re taken aback. You had never expected to want to get out of a course so bad, and then end up finding yourself desperate for your professor.

“To be honest, professor, I had heard that you were. . . a. . . less than average teacher.”

He looked hurt, but at the same time, not at all surprised.

“B-but I quickly learned that that’s not true! You’re funny, and smart, and hot, and British, and geeky…” You quickly interjected.

A small smirk appeared on his face.

“You think that I’m hot?”

Shit. Did I really say that? You uncrossed and recrossed your legs again. Your arousal was becoming painful. Duncan furrowed his brows and looked into your eyes.

“Your pupils are dilated,” he said, noting the telltale sign of arousal.

This is wrong. This is wrong. He’s a professor. I’m a student.

Get out however you can.

“Listen, I have to get out of here, I… have a dentist appointment,” You quickly fabricated an excuse to save you from this increasingly awkward situation, but Duncan beat you to the door, slamming it shut and throwing his arms out wide, blocking your escape route.

“Y/N, say the word and I’ll stop, but if I’m reading you right you’re very aroused right now.” He was left panting slightly from the little sprint to the door.

“Duncan, let me out, we shouldn’t do this. We can’t do this,”

“Y/N, look me in the eye and tell me that you feel nothing for me and I will let you go.”

You squirmed, realizing that you had never stood this close to him before. You looked in his eyes and tried to tell him what you couldn’t do this, no matter how much you wanted to, but all that came out was, “I need you.”

Duncan smiled and slowly leaned in to kiss you. He took your face into both of his hands, bringing you close to him. His warm breath on your cheeks sent tingles down your spine, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. You placed both of your hands on his chest as he wrapped you in his arms, both of you melting into one another. He turned you around and pinned you against the door, grinding into you. You elicited a deep guttural moan as you finally received some of the friction you needed on your most sensitive spot. When you came up for air, Duncan moved his attention to your neck and collarbone, peppering your sensitive flesh with bites and licks which would leave bruises for the rest of the week. You gasped as he continued to grind into you, his arms holding you to him against the wall. Needing more, you wrapped one of your legs around his waist, pressing his growing erection against your soaked underwear. You were glad you had decided to wear a skirt and not jeans.

You couldn’t take it anymore, the friction was not enough to satisfy you.

“Please,” You whined as he continued to suck on your neck.

“Please what? Tell me what you want me to do,” He said, his voice a low growl. Now that he had you, he intended on teasing you to no end. You didn’t have the patience to mess with him, so you had no choice but to play along.

“I want you…” you hesitated. You weren't used to having to so explicit. "I want you to… fuck me. On your desk," you managed to spit out.

“Yes, ma’am” Duncan groaned excitedly into your neck. He began to shuffle you toward his desk, furiously unbuttoning your shirt. Your lips found his as you shimmied out of your button down and then quickly unzipped your skirt and let it fall to your ankles. You looked at the papers splayed across his desk and shoved them onto the floor.

Normally I’d complain about the enormous mess that you’ve just made, but these aren't normal circumstances, now are they?"

You sat down on his desk and Duncan laid you back so that your legs were dangling off the edge, facing his chair. Leaning over you, he wrapped one arm around your waist holding you flush to his still fully-clothed body. He nuzzled into your breasts, leaving kisses on the sensitive flesh. He dexterously unfastened your bra and threw it to the side as he latched onto one of your nipples, while he pinched and rolled your other with his free hand. You began to breathe heavily, back arching up off the desk to try to signal to Duncan what you really wanted.

However, he continued to give attention to your tender breasts, knowing the anticipation was killing you. This was not the Duncan you knew; He was no longer flustered or awkward, but confident and dominating. You had surrendered yourself completely to him, and he loved it.

Finally he began to move south, leaving sloppy, wet, hungry kisses down your abdomen to your pubic bone – but there he stopped. He got on his knees and began to nip at your inner thighs, driving you wild. You whimpered as he created more bruises, marking you as his. You propped yourself up on your elbows, dying to watch him work. The two fo you locked eyes as he began to rub you through your soaked knickers, a smile appearing on his face as your jaw dropped and a moan escaped your lips. He removed your knickers, sliding them down your legs using his teeth, keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time. He made a broad stroke from your entrance to your clit with his tongue, eliciting a loud “Professor!” from your lips. He licked and sucked your clit as his dexterous fingers found their way inside of you.

“You’re so tight,” He sighed into you before continuing to lap at your clit.

A familiar spring began to tighten in your stomach, letting you know that you were close. All of Duncan’s teasing had left you extremely sensitive, verging on painfully overstimulated. As the spring tightened more and more, your hand grabbed his deep brown hair, pulling him even closer to you. Duncan could tell that you were nearing orgasm, so he sped up his movements. Soon you began to unravel on him, your muscles clamping down on his fingers as you arched into him, moaning his name and some choice expletives.

He worked you through your orgasm, sitting back on his heels and watching you lay on his desk, a shivering mess. He licked your arousal off of his fingers as he gazed over your body. Your face and chest were blotchy and red, and your wetness was dripping from your folds. Duncan wrapped his arm around your waist once again, leading you to the small couch in his classroom. He laid you down on the cushions and then began to unbutton his belt, but you grabbed his hand.

“Let me,” You said.

Duncan had had his fun with you, so you were going to have your way with him. You helped him out of his sweater vest, button down, and under shirt, needing him to be completely bare for you. You ran your fingers through his chest hair, slowly trailing down to his navel and then palming his erection through his pants. He let out a guttural moan and an “Oh, fuck,” as he leaned into you. Despite having just orgasmed, you were ready for more and could barely contain yourself. You made quick work of his pants and boxers, laying down on the couch and looking at Duncan invitingly. He stroked himself as he looked at you, wet and ready for him.

“I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you in my class,” He said, straddling you.

“Then take me,” You whispered.

Duncan slid into you slowly, each of you savoring the new sensation. You both groaned as he bottomed out, he had slid into your wetness so easily. He got onto his elbows, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he began to slowly thrust in and out. You held his head to you with one hand while the other was splayed across his back. He began to move faster, panting and groaning into your ear. The heat began coiling in your stomach once more as he moved to kiss you, this time more sloppily than the first. You could taste yourself on his tongue, only furthering your arousal. His thrusts became shorter and erratic and you knew that he was getting close. Your lips separated as you held his face to yours keeping eye contact and moaned, “Come for me.”

After a few more thrusts you came undone, your tightening walls subsequently sending him over the edge. He moaned your name over and over again as you bit his shoulder to keep from moaning too loudly and alerting the whole school to your presence. After he had finished he collapsed on top of you, his cock softening inside. You stayed like that for a moment, sweaty bodies breathing together in the aftereffects of passionate sex. He rolled off of you eventually, holding your body to his. You looked into each other’s eyes and smiled, relishing in your newfound partnership.