Class (NSFW)

It was that really pesky time of year in Texas. In the morning, it was bitterly cold and required layers, but by the afternoon, it was sunny and warm. The jackets, scarves, and sweaters that people wore became burdensome by lunchtime, and were often toted around underarm. This time of year is also frustrating and difficult because nearly every building is on one end of the thermal extreme: they either crank on the heat to deal with the frosty mornings or blast the ale to endure the afternoon heat. That's why Morgan was wearing a light zip-up hoodie; it was right in the sweet spot of warm enough and cool enough, so long as she wore it over a breathable t-shirt.

It was about 8:56 now, and her intro to psych class would start soon. She strolled into the large auditorium and glanced around at the available seats. The room could easily seat 100 people, despite only about 30 being in the class. She strolled up to her usual section, just a little higher than halfway, and then moved a few seats inward. The students typically spaced themselves out pretty well to take up most of the room, despite the number of vacant seats. They were not very talkative this time of morning and rarely had any extracurricular talk at all.

Morgan set her backpack down, fumbled through, and dug out her supplies. It was 9:01 now, but there was still no sign of Professor Wilson. Despite it being such an early class, Professor Wilson always tried his best to make the material as engaging as possible, which Morgan always appreciated. She never interacted, of course, she was much too tentative. But she appreciated his efforts nonetheless. Her desk was as prepared as possible: pen, highlighter, and notebook in place, and yet, still no professor Wilson. The classroom was near silent and several students simply put their sleepy heads down on their desks. At 9:08, a slightly older classmate (perhaps a junior?) collected his belongings and made his way out. It was at this instant that Professor Wilson charged in.

"Ah, so it's only eight minutes then?" He asked the student, but also obviously to the room. "I thought, what an interesting study for my intro to psych students. Let's see how long it takes someone to defy the rigid standards of conformity norms and venture out as the first person to decide that their time is too valuable to be disrespected by the tardiness of their instructor. It turns out, that Daniel here is the least bound by societal impositions. Very good, Daniel!" Daniel seemed torn. He wanted to be flattered with what seemed to be a compliment to his defiant nature, but he was also pretty stoked about skipping out of class. "Also, I did leave my house about 15 minutes late today guys, so I'm sorry about that. I'm not even sure if Daniel was the first to walk out, I was just guessing," said the professor, which actually got a laugh from most of the students in the class. Even though Morgan thought the joke was a little cheesy, she had to admit to herself that she had been had.

"Now, go sit down Daniel, your McMuffin can wait an hour and a half. They don't stop serving breakfast until 11." The class giggled again. Morgan giggled again. She had never really noticed before, but Professor Wilson was pretty funny. Perhaps it was the break from the monotonous routine of her mornings, but she seemed to be more awake in this class than usual. She panned the room and noticed classmates that she realized she had never even noticed, despite classes beginning in January. She noticed that the obscenely large whiteboard at the front of the class was actually 3 whiteboards, with a very faint separation between them. She noticed that there is another exit on the right side of the class behind the seats. Morgan always came in and left through the one on the left, but realized that the door to the right must open up right at her anatomy and physiology class. "Alright guys, so let's go ahead and pick up where we left off with that dirtbag Freud. I hate him and his work, but I don't have the confidence that Daniel does to just skip out on stuff I don't want to do." Morgan finally noticed Dr. Wilson. Dr. Alexander Wilson.

She always just assumed that because he was a professor, that he was old. In reality, he only seemed to be about six or seven years older than her. She was sure that his hair had some gray in it, but now that she inspected him more closely, she saw that it was luscious brown hair. He slicked it back. It did look very mature and professional. Today, like most days, he was wearing a button-up shirt, with a tie and a pullover. He had some taut khakis and brown leather shoes. Something was different today though. Morgan stared intently as she tried to determine what it was. It wasn't until he picked up a marker and began writing on the board that she caught sight of it. For the first time, because he had rolled his sleeves up about halfway to the elbow, she caught glimpse of a tattoo. She had not studied enough psychology yet to explain why the instant she saw his tattoo peeking out of his cuff, she instantly felt attraction towards him.

It was not a normal attraction like she had felt a few hundred times before in her life. This was different. It was a rush. It was like the feeling of reaching the bottom of the stairs, only to discover there is one more stair you hadn't accounted for: for an instant, you panic. Your heart races. You want to jolt your hand out and grab something, but before there is any time, your foot touches the ground and you realize what happened, hopefully without anyone noticing. Morgan felt the exhilaration of an unexpected extra step, except the sensation of danger and excitement did not go away. She could still feel her heart beating harder and faster than normal, and she felt a wave of heat rush over her. She unzipped her jacket and wafted it a bit to cool down. As she waved her jacket open and closed and it brushed lightly against her body, she realized that her nipples had gone erect.

She glanced around hurriedly to see if anyone had noticed. She even checked for the rows above her. Not a soul in the world was paying her any mind at all. As Dr. Wilson continued on about different theories and complexes, Morgan carefully tugged at the bottom of her jacket. She methodically tugged towards the center of her lap, and then towards her hips, brushing the plastic zipper back and forth across her nipples. She tried to regain her focus on the class, but almost involuntarily continued to tease her nipples.

"You see, and that's why so many people struggle with relationships for the same reasons. It's often due to a lack of trust, failure to handle certain responsibilities, or a lack of communication. But almost all of these shortcomings can be traced back to a time in our developing childhood years, to some sort of event that we have built upon since then with our own experiences and influences." Morgan didn't even mean to, but as she discreetly played with her nipples and tried to focus on the lesson at the same time, her mind began to wander to the possibilities of Dr. Wilson, grinding that tattoo in between her thighs.

"I'm sorry Dr. Wilson, but could you explain oral fixation again? I got so caught up in what you were saying I forgot to write it down, but I know if I don't write it down I'll forget." Morgan explained, if only to hear his voice some more.

"Of course, Morgan! Why don't you come with me to my office though. Another class will be in here soon, and I don't want these kids getting the wrong impression as I explain such a perverse topic to you."

They both walked out the exit on the right, and just two doors down to a white door against a white wall, as plain and insignificant as could be. But it did have his nameplate on the wall outside. Dr. Alexander D. Wilson. He walked into the office and Morgan followed close behind him, but not without sliding her fingers within the plastic lettering of the sign. Feeling his name, as she walked into the office.

"So Morgan, it really is a matter of-" she thrust herself against him, pressing her lips tightly to his and letting her tongue into his mouth. He defensively drew back and shouted as quietly as he could, "what the fuck!?" Despite him having no ulterior motives, he already knew the scene was not in his favor. A freshman girl in his office with the door closed? He had given plenty of extra lessons behind this door, but he knew the danger associated with this kind of behavior in his line of work. Not to mention the fact that she had forced herself on him. "Morgan, are you out of your fucking mind? I could get fired for this. I'm married. I have a six-month-old son."

After using the jacket and getting away with it for long enough, she was confident that she could get away with 'scratching an itch,' and began rolling her nipples in her fingers through her shirt. The fabric of her shirt against her chest only added to the pleasure she was feeling. She pinched and tugged at herself, as Dr. Wilson continued his lecture to the class.

"I know professor Wilson, I'm sorry. I just ... I don't know what came over me. You talk about life. You talk about sex. You talk about sensation and desire-"

He tersely interrupted her, "yes, Morgan, it is my job. A job I am very inclined to keep. You think you can just barge your way in here and start kissing me because you have some kind of fucked up history with your father? You think I'd be more understanding and forgiving than your math professor? Because I'm not. In fact, I KNOW that these impulses are within your control. You think I'd risk my job? My family? For some freshman in yoga pants?"

Morgan tapped her pen gently on her desk and glanced around the room again. Slowly, so as not to bring attention to herself. The other students were either paying attention to professor Wilson, their phones, or not paying attention to anything. She opened her jacket widely to block as much as she could. There was a girl sitting three desks to her left, and a guy five desks to her right, both scribbling notes. Morgan reached down into her lap and started lightly scratching at herself through her yoga pants. She clenched her toes and her legs instantly flexed apart. She struggled to remain discreet but managed to close her thighs again, and began rubbing herself. She checked out of her peripheral, and no one was any wiser.

"But professor, I really do need help! That was true! Could we at least talk about the lesson? And then I'll go, I swear." Dr. Wilson was fuming but was also careful not to upset her. If Morgan comes out of his office with a spirit of vengence, that could undo any honor he showed anyway.

"Fine. What do you need me to cover." Morgan sat down on the smaller chair on, what was obviously the 'student side' of the desk. Dr. Wilson sat in his large, brown, leather chair opposite her. There was a dingy-looking couch behind Morgan and a lamp against the farthest wall. Not even a bookshelf was in the space. There probably was no room for one. Despite the limited furniture, it was still extremely cramped.

"I actually have a gap in my notes starting with a ... Freudian nip?"

Dr. Wilson huffed annoyingly and said, "no, no .. Freudian slip." However, instinctively, as she said nip, he glanced at her chest and noticed she was not wearing a bra. Just a simple white v-neck, with a light purple jacket over it. And poking right at the line of the zipper on both sides .. the peaks of her breasts stood erect. He looked back into her eyes. They seemed now to be completely innocent, as if all memory of before had already faded and all intention was lost. There was something about her now that they were sitting in their respective positions: him in his leather chair, the knowing, the wise, and her in the plastic student chair, ignorant and oblivious ... the situation seemed far more appealing than before.

"Professor?"

"Yes?"

"You were saying?" He stared at her. Her long, straight, dark hair resting against her shoulders, but completely out of her face. He saw her ears poking through, and noticed that they were pierced; he had never noticed that before. He was so close. So damn close to maintaining his discipline and performing his instruction as he is expected to do. Until she cocked her head to the side and said, "what is it, Professor Wilson?" Her voice entranced him. It made him feel power over her. Like he was in control of the room. He knew that she wanted him and that she would do exactly as he told her.

He stared at her piercingly and muttered, "go lock the door." She slowly slid the chair up and walked towards the shut door, and heard him quietly add on, "you little slut."

The thought of him calling her a slut already got Morgan close to climaxing, as she continued to rub herself during the lecture. She had given up trying to watch for prying eyes around her noticing her actions. Her daydream had completely taken over, as she slid her hand down under her yoga pants. She rubbed herself on top of her underwear, which felt considerably better. By now though, she could not deny herself the pleasure any longer of rubbing directly against her skin. She slipped her fingers inside of herself for a moment to lubricate them, and then slid up and rubbed her clit. She slid her index finger inside again and rubbed her clit with her thumb at the same time, while watching Dr. Wilson's tattoo dance along the whiteboard.

As she sauntered towards the door, he watched her. Before she even made it, he was behind her. He thrust himself against her ass, slamming themselves both against the flimsy door. He whispered with aggression in his voice, "I said lock it, slut."

"Yes sir," she said obediently.

She rubbed herself with her fingers but imagined they were his, in his office. Behind her, pressing against her, against the door. She imagined his tattoo, hidden under his rolled sleeve, and wondered what it could be.

He took her between his fingers fiercely, with anger. As if it were her fault that he was choosing to do this. He was a good man, loyal to his wife. But her lust had invaded his good senses, and he resented her for it. He quickly forced her around. Now, eye to eye, with the room only dimly lit by the lamp in the back, they started at each other. His eyes were experienced. Dominant. Forceful. Hers were innocent. Enamored. Longing. He leaned in close to her ear, whispering again, while continuing to finger her from the front.

"This never fucking happened. This will not become a routine. You were never even in my fucking office. I don't know your name. You will never say my name again after leaving this room." He stroked up and down between the folds of her pussy. She was trying to be quiet. Trying to obey. But it was so hard with how good it felt. "While you are in here, you will do exactly as I say, when I say it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes... yes sir."

"Good, then come suck my dick." He finally released her from his grip and sat back in his leather chair. He turned it towards her. "Now." She tiptoed over towards him, hesitantly. "No, no. Don't start this shy girl bullshit with me now. You wanted to fuck me? Well I'm fucked. So now I'm gonna fuck you too. Get down." She got down on her knees and looked up at him. She paused for a moment, waiting. "Undo my belt. Unzip my pants." Morgan acted, quicker now so as not to upset him further. She pulled it out and was amazed at the size... far bigger than any she had seen before. She was intimidated, and it was not even completely hard yet. He grabbed two full hands of hair on either side of her head. "Open." She opened her jaw, as wide as she could. As she did, she saw him throb, slightly more erect, gaining size and girth. Before she could resist, he forced her head onto himself. He slid as deep into her mouth as he could fit. Morgan almost choked. She felt him all the way in the back of her throat and her eyes watered from the pain of the violent shove. He held her there, forcibly, for a few seconds. Finally, once she began to gag, he pulled himself out of her throat. She could taste his precum dripping. Just as soon as she took her first breath of air, he forced himself into her throat again, this time not waiting. He slid her head forward and backward, controlling her movement completely with his hands. Dr. Wilson was practically jerking off with Morgan's throat. "Is this what you wanted, when you came barging into my office, you fucking bitch?"

She sat at her desk, clenching her pen tightly in her fist now. Her other hand was speedily rubbing herself. This is exactly what she wanted. More than anything. She gurgled and coughed... she even tried putting her hands up to stop him, to give herself a break to catch her breath. He quickly swatted her hand and said, "you'll do as I say, remember?" So she bobbed her head up and down on him, completely at the mercy of his strong hands. The sound of her choking was enticing to him. It drove him mad. The sound of her struggling to handle him was just as pleasurable as the slick inside of her wet mouth. But as she gagged and struggled and his desire increased, her mouth was no longer enough. "Go to my couch."

"Sir?" She asked, hoping this would have ended with his cum dripping down her throat. Morgan was starting to enjoy the taste. She wanted to finish him.

He yanked her hair back and said, "go to the couch. Now. Pull these fucking yoga pants down to your ankles, but leave them on. Lean over the arm of the couch. Leave your ass up for me, but bury your face in the cushions. I don't want to see your fucking face."

She learned from last time and did as she was told, quickly. Her yoga pants dropped to her white Keds, but she was careful to leave them on, and she leaned over the couch. She buried her face within the cushion. It was old and smelled bad. The fibers of the rough couch scratched her face. She could hear Dr. Wilson approaching her from behind.

"Morgan, what do you think?" She pulled her hands out of her pants with lightning speed and slammed her pen down on her notebook.

"What do I think professor?" The class laughed, as it was completely obvious she had not been paying attention.

"Well, I don't know what you think, Morgan. That's why I asked you!" The class laughed again. "The rest of the students and I were talking about how most of the animosity we feel towards our parents usually comes from after we grow up and reflect on our past experiences, instead of actually being upset with them at the moment that it happens. And I asked, 'what do you think?'" She could feel the puddle she was sitting in, still squirting, praying to God everyone would just look away.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." The class laughed again.

"Insightful response, Ms. Morgan. Thank you for sharing." God answered her prayer. Dr. Wilson turned back to the board, everyone turned back to him, and she shoved her hand right back into her pants.

He grabbed the skin of her hips in his hands. She was a relatively thin girl, but had wide hips, ever since puberty. She always got compliments on them by dorky guys her age, asking for nudes. But Dr. Wilson didn't care. He didn't even act impressed. He just squeezed them tight in his grip and placed the tip of himself against her lips. She could already tell he wouldn't fit. She knew as she was blowing him that he would be too big to fit inside of her. She winced with pain as he tried anyway. "Shhh... Morgan, relax baby. It's okay. I don't want to hurt you. Don't worry, I'll make this work." He reached under her belly and began stroking her clit again. He rubbed his finger against her, and she felt her opening began to relax and expand. As she grew, he slid, deeper and deeper inside of her. It no longer hurt. She could feel herself, wrapped around him. Squeezing against him as she flexed herself, and feeling him throb in pleasure in response. "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you now, okay Morgan? Harder than anyone has ever fucked this little pussy."

She was scared. She felt him sliding back out, slowly. After about halfway, he began to ease back in. She couldn't understand how it felt so good. She felt him rubbing her clit, and she felt him pumping in and out of her. She had had sex before. Her boyfriends had rubbed her clit before. But never like this. Nothing was ever like this. She tried to turn around and look at him. "I said keep your fucking face in the couch, Morgan!" He said angrily, as he shoved his hand downward onto her back. This tilted her pussy up towards him, and he slid in and out effortlessly, fucking her just as he said he would: like no one ever had before. She could feel herself leaking all over him.

Her fingers were soaked. She cupped her mouth with her other hand.

His breathing quickened, and his grip on her grew tighter. He fucked his way, in and out of her, violently. She felt the elastic of her yoga pants keeping her feet together, but the force of his body was forcing her legs open. As he pounded the weight of his body against her, she lost control of herself. She started to scream. She began to cum all over him.

"Me too baby, me too." He meant to pull out of her, but she forced herself onto his dick and wouldn't let him pull out. They were fucking each other now, instead of him fucking her. Both of them, cumming. He seemed to fill every bit of her with his dick, and yet there was still space within her to hold all of the cum that he ejaculated.

She felt it. Warm. Oozy. She felt him slide out of her, and she felt it drip down her pussy. He reached down and rubbed her with his hands again, spreading the cum onto her asshole. He slid his finger in ever just so slightly. Just enough to leave a trace of himself inside of her there, too. She panted, trying to catch her breath.

"Go ahead, Morgan. Get up. Dress yourself." He said, panting. Exhausted. "And get the fuck out of my office. Again, this never fucking happened."

At 10:30, the bell rang. She was completely unaware of the time and hurried all of her stuff into her bag.

"Hurry up, Daniel, and you can still catch your breakfast." Morgan was utterly in disbelief. She may have well not even been in class. She remembered none of the lesson. All she could think about was her daydream. She looked at Dr. Wilson again. He was the same man as before. He was even the same as from her dream. However, he seemed completely different to her.

"Professor Wilson? What is your tattoo?" He laughed uncomfortably.

"Excuse me?"

Morgan said, "I noticed your tattoo on your arm for the first time today. What is it?" He peered around and noticed that most of the other students had left by now. He motioned her closer to him and pulled his sleeve up, showing her his secret. She laughed under her breath. His secret was nothing compared to hers.