The man didn't stop. Instead, he grew bolder, slipping his hand beneath the fabric. His rough palm pressed against my skin, exploring upward inch by inch. His other arm wrapped around my stomach, pulling me tight against him.

I closed my eyes. Reason told me to push him away, but my body had gone soft, weightless. My legs trembled, and if he hadn't been holding me up, I would have collapsed to the floor.

His fingers finally reached the thin lace edge. As he moved beneath it, a soft sound escaped my lips.

"Mm…"

I bit down immediately, but he caught the noise anyway. His movements grew bolder, cupping me entirely in his palm, kneading with increased pressure, occasionally squeezing.

After exploring my upper body, he seemed unsatisfied. The hand at my stomach began sliding downward.

His large hand moved lower, stroking the front of my underwear before tugging at the fabric, creating friction.

"You're so turned on. Want me to take care of you?"

Then he slipped beneath the waistband, his fingers reaching that forbidden place. The sudden contact nearly made me cry out. I bit my lip hard, suppressing any sound.

He wasn't satisfied yet. He pushed aside the soaked fabric, preparing to go further.

Reason finally won out. I grabbed his forearm. "Not there…"

Shame flooded through me. My students surrounded us on all sides. Terrified of losing control, I pushed backward, accidentally grabbing him there instead.

"Can't wait anymore? The foreplay isn't even finished yet."

I yanked my hand back, but the brief contact startled me. His size far exceeded Blake's.

Just then, the crowd in the stairwell began moving forward. The dense pack of students gradually thinned.

The man withdrew his hand, and I frantically straightened my clothes.

As the flow dispersed, I didn't dare look back. I hurried forward instead. Even after putting distance between us, I could still feel his burning gaze on my back.

Back in my office, I shut the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. My heart hammered as I looked down. My blouse was bunched up at the hem, and I'd fastened the buttons wrong, missing one.

The wetness between my legs felt sticky and uncomfortable. The office was empty anyway, so I slipped off my underwear, planning to throw them away and change into a fresh pair.

Just then, someone knocked. I didn't have time to put the underwear back on, so I quickly pulled on my skirt to cover myself.

"Come in."

The door opened. A man walked in, and his first words made me freeze.

"Hello, Professor Lovell. Blake sent me. My name is Kieran Walsh."

The student from the stairwell stood in my doorway. He greeted me politely, showing no sign of recognition.

"Oh… please, sit." I tried to sound natural. "You're interested in the physiology graduate program?"

"Yes." He sat down beside me.

"I'm very interested in human physiological mechanisms, particularly genital response."

As Kieran spoke those last few words, his gaze locked onto my face.

I pretended not to notice. "What's your undergraduate major?"

"Also physiology. I'm a junior."

"You're already preparing for grad school? That's early."

"I want to be prepared, play it safe." He smiled at me. "Besides, I've sat in on your lectures before, Professor Lovell. They're excellent."

I froze. "You've sat in on my classes?"

"The Human Physiology Fundamentals course you're teaching this semester. I've attended every lecture."

His eyes stayed fixed on me. "Your teaching is very engaging, Professor, especially today's section on the genital response cycle. You covered a lot of details very clearly."

I caught the implication in his words.

"So… Do you have any specific questions?"

He pulled a notebook from his bag, flipped it open, and slid it across the desk. "This section on male genital response mechanisms—there are some parts I don't understand."

I looked down. The notebook contained neat notes from my lectures, covered with dense annotations. He'd clearly been paying attention.

"Here, you mentioned that male genital response has four phases: excitement, plateau, orgasm, and resolution. My question is, if someone remains in the plateau phase with continued stimulation but doesn't reach climax, what are the physiological effects?"

It was a legitimate academic question. I answered carefully. "Prolonged plateau phase without release can cause prostatic congestion. Over time, this could potentially lead to prostatitis and other issues. So appropriate…"

Halfway through, I realized something and looked up. Kieran stared back at me, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

"So Professor Lovell, if someone stays aroused for a long time without release, they need to take care of it, right?"

Take care of it? My heart skipped a beat.

"That's… Well—"

"I have a friend who's been dealing with this recently," he cut me off.

"He gets aroused randomly, and once it happens, it won't go away. Sometimes it lasts for hours. He saw a doctor who said there's nothing physically wrong and suggested he just needs release."

He stared at me intently, enunciating each word slowly. "Professor Lovell, do you think that's sound medical advice?"

My face grew hot. Every word seemed loaded with suggestion.

"Well… From a physiological standpoint, appropriate release does help relieve prostatic congestion. But it really depends on the specific circumstances."

"Would you be willing to help him, Professor?"

"What?"

Before I could process his question, he leaned down, hands bracing against the arms of my chair, trapping me in place.

"Kieran, you…"

"Professor Lovell." His mouth moved close to my ear, his voice overlapping with that same whisper from the stairwell.

"You're turned on. Need help with that?"

The sensation from the stairwell, that touch that had brought me to the edge of losing control, seemed to crawl back over my body. I trembled, unable to stop it, feeling the heat between my legs intensify.

Kieran looked down at me, amusement in his eyes, taking in my every reaction.