Draco looked at Mr Potter, who he found staring right back at him, a mischievous glint in his eye. Draco quickly looked away, but it wasn't long before he found himself gazing at his teacher again, studying how his hairs would casually fall onto his face, how he would have to adjust his glasses every few minutes, how he would lick his lips oh so seductively every few sentences.
Draco had often studied his teacher and how he behaved, somehow not finding it creepy. He didn't seem to think living on the same street as his teacher, although coincidental, was weird. But this wasn't any teacher, this was Mr Potter, or, Harry, if you prefer to go by first names.
Harry Potter. The man who had made Draco erupt in orgasm just by his looks, who's actions replayed like broken records in Draco's mind every night when he stroked his cock.
He had had many fantasies of his teacher. All sexual in nature, of course. Tying him to bed posts, hearing him scream Draco's name and he thrusted into the older man, dominating him even though he was the younger of the two.
"Mr. Malfoy. Could you please pay attention in my lesson? I understand it's not interesting to you, and that you would clearly rather stare at the scar on my forehead, but you have A-Level exams in just a few weeks, you need to pay attention." Mr Potter's voice jerked Draco out of his memories of those nights, those when he could close his eyes and picture Harry lying, covered in his cum, begging for-
"Mr. Malfoy?" Draco shook his head, taking him out of his daydream, or, more accurately, wet dream, and he adjusted his trousers discretely, hoping the other students, whom were now staring at him, hadn't seen his not-so-mini Draco.
"Mr. Malfoy is my father." He replied, getting sick of people calling him that.
"Draco, whether or not you like your father isn't the point here. I've asked you twice to pay attention." Harry sighed, tugging his hands through his scruffy, Raven coloured hair. "Draco, I'm going to have to have you stay behind after class. I can't have you daydreaming all lesson." Draco simply nodded, smirking at the fact that he got to spend more time with the protagonist of his adventures in the bedroom.
The bell for end of lesson rang loudly. The students around him packed and left, whereas Draco cockily swung his bag over his shoulder. He walked up to the teachers desk, slowly dragging his fingers seductively along the edge. The door shut and Potter stood up from his chair. Draco noticed him gulp slightly, a small glint in his eye.
"You wanted to talk to me, Sir?" He asked huskily, making it sound like a statement rather than a question.
"Y- Yes, Draco. I'm worried you're going to start failings class if you don't stop daydreaming. Your homework is impeccable but your class work is- is failing, I'm afraid." Draco continued to walk closer to Harry, now moving his fingers up the teacher's thigh as he whispered into his ear,
"Mr Potter, you don't need to be afraid with me." He huskily hushed. His fingers reached the tops of Harry's thighs, and they traced the top down to the crotch area, where he could feel the heat radiating of Harry's hardened cock. "You can be excited," he continued, pressing down slightly, earning a gasp from the man, "you can be humiliated," he pressed harder, beginning to rub slightly. Harry moaned quietely, trying to suppress his blush. "You can by bursting with pleasure," the rubbing and pressure increased, "but never," he moved closer, "ever afraid." By now Harry was beginning to relax into the situation, gasping and writhing at Draco's touch.
Draco unzipped Harry's trousers, delving a hand inside. His smirking face reached a smile when he found what was underneath.
"My, my. Potter. Silk panties? Daddy likes." Harry moaned louder.
"I- I'm goi-" Draco stopped rubbing, and pulled his hand away.
"Don't touch yourself. That's an order. And if you don't obey, Daddy will punish you." Draco whispered huskily, before leaving a flustered, and extremely turned on, Harry.