AN- So I blame Alma for the following fic. I'm a slut for the captain and eager to please her so I wrote the thing and it's probably going to be a few chapters long with each chapter being a new lesson in the class. I pulled influences from my own educational experiences (it hits a little too close to home sometimes), Carrie Pilby (If Colin's character wasn't a predatory asshole), the fic Sex Ed with Killian Jones (go read it if you haven't already and thank me later), and last but not least the reddit forum for my university that discussed this particular class. Enjoy!

Rate My Professor

*Introduction*

Emma ran up the steps of the psychology building, trying her best to not trip over her own feet in her rush to find her first class of the fall semester. Adjusting her messenger bag over her shoulder she pushed the door open and immediately began scanning the halls for the direction she was supposed to go in to reach the lecture hall.

Her mouth closed around her winter glove, pulling it over her fingers, letting it rest between her teeth as she dug out her class schedule buried in her pocket. It read: Tuesdays and Thursdays, Human Sexuality in room 119 lecture hall B with Professor Killian Jones.

"Room 119… room 119…" She repeated, trying to memorize the room number that was muffled under her glove. "This way." She turned to her right, pointing with her gloved hand. "No this way." She turned on her heel and started off toward the left side of the building, reading room numbers as she went until she reached the long stretch of the hallway — room 119, lecture hall B it read.

"Finally…" She sighed in relief before removing her remaining glove and opening the door.

She stumbled into the crowded lecture hall, deadpanning at the commotion going on around her as she leaned against the door. "Jesus. Were they selling tickets to this thing?" She thought to herself. Emma groaned to herself, gripping the back on her shoulder as she shuffled through the crowd of mostly female students reminiscing about their summer break to find a lonely seat at the front of the classroom.

"Excuse me." She tried to slip past the herds of people standing at the front of the lecture hall. By the time she plopped down in her seat she was already feeling like a packed sardine. Had she known it was going to be this crowded she would have taken another professor. However, she needed to take this class in order to graduate, and she was going to get stuck in the same position she was last semester when her developmental psychology professor turned out to be the toughest grader yet.

"No." She inwardly reassured herself of her decision before moving the table top from its resting position and locking it into place in front of her before digging in her bag to retrieve her notebook, preferring to write out her notes rather than type them out.

When reviewing the four professors that taught this class, Professor Jones came highly recommended on Rate My Professor, receiving top marks for grading, lectures and assignments. It didn't hurt that he was highly respected in the psychology department and had recently secured himself a spot as a full-time professor — a step up from his adjunct status.

Emma glanced around the room, noting the throngs of women — an unreasonable amount of women — who gabbed with their friends as they found their seats. The lack of males in the classroom gave her pause. She had heard that by the time most psychology students hit their junior year they were practically itching to take this class and the last time she recalled psychology wasn't necessarily a female-dominated major.

"I can't believe I am still waitlisted for this class." She heard one of the female students say as she took a seat behind her. "I showed up anyway hoping someone would drop."

"Good luck with that." One of her female companions said with mirth as she pulled the seat down and placed herself into it. "This class fills up faster than a midnight premiere of a Marvel movie."

"Is it true what they say? About the professor I mean?" She wondered.

"Oh yeah." Was all the other girl said before taking a sip of her coffee. "I failed on purpose last semester just so I could take this class again." She confirmed with a nod of her head.

Emma turned her attention to the girls conversing behind her, her eyes glancing up to them as she continued to fish around for her notebook for an unnecessary amount of time — unable to concentrate on much else other than the subject going on behind her.

"Can I help you?" One of the girls sneered, looking her up and down.

"No." Emma shook her head. "Sorry."

Emma turned her head, paying attention to her task. She pulled out a fresh college-ruled spiral notebook and slapped it onto the desk before digging back in to retrieve a pen when the door at the top of the lecture hall slammed shut and the room got quiet — very quiet.

All that could be heard was the shuffling of people getting into their seats and the sounds of their heavy breathing as a pair of feet walked down the steep decline down the center aisle of the lecture hall.

She looked around her in confusion, straining in her seat to meet the stares of her classmates.

What the hell were they staring at?

Emma's eyes followed the eyes of her classmates as she saw a figure with black hair whiz away from her — barely able to make out the man behind the hazy image. She turned back around to see a man at the blackboard, his back still turned as he removed his winter coat and set it down beside him along with his briefcase. He removed his scarf next and tossed it with the rest of his belongings. Her eyes trailed down the body in front of her, noting his broad masculine shoulders filling his tweed sport coat that trailed just above his tight ass that filled his body hugging trousers.

Emma opened and closed her mouth, inwardly gawking at the man she had yet to even lay her eyes on.

You could feel the anticipation building in the room as the professor grabbed a piece of chalk from the blackboard and began scribbling his names in a fine script and underlining it before whirling around to address the class, leaning on the chair in front of him for support.

You could hear the collective sigh in the room as he was fully revealed to the students, followed by a long exhale.

"Hi. I'm professor Killian Jones and I will be your professor this semester for psych 357, the psychology of human sexuality." He announced, flashing a sexy smirk that could have melted all the hearts of all the women who leaned forward as he spoke, hanging on his every word.

She was trying not to stare — she really was. But it was like he had just stepped off the pages of a European men's magazine — the real classy ones where they are wearing Dior and Gucci. Emma bit her lip as she took the sight of him — his black hair with specks of red was deliciously tousled complemented by an effortless dusting of facial hair in the same black reddish hue. His eyebrows were thick and dark as they framed the most gorgeous set of deep blue eyes sitting underneath his long lashes. The man was absolutely stunning — almost painfully beautiful to look at and distracting as all hell.

Emma stiffened somewhat as she watched his tongue slip from his mouth to rove over his bottom lip and she could have sworn she heard a moan behind her — but she didn't dare turn around to confirm her suspicions.

"You guys are a quiet bunch today." He noted, scratching the bag of his head awkwardly as a tightly lipped smile formed on his lips, his cheeks rippling slightly. Emma found herself absently trailing his jawline with her eyes, her head tilting from side to side to find where his perfectly scalped jaw ended and the rest of it began — suffice to say she couldn't find it. There seemed to be no end to the man — what if there was none and he just kept going on and on and on and on…

"Sex." He began, slamming down on the chair in front of him in excitement. "Well… I'm not here to give you the birds and bees talk. So I'm assuming most of you know the basics or you wouldn't be here."

The class laughed, and she noticed a few of the women in the captive audience cross and uncross their legs as his lilted voice carried through the hall.

"I always like to start the semester by introducing myself and going over the syllabus but you guys pay enough money not to be bored with something you can read about on your own time. Hint. Hint. Pay attention to my weekly announcements and review the syllabus before Thursday's class. If you have any questions you can find my email listed on there — and please serious inquiries only. I've had my fair share of sex questions hurled at me. I'm not a counselor, I'm just a man with a doctorate who enjoys educating people about sex." He drummed his long fingers against the head of the chair.

"There is always someone every semester who wishes to challenge me on the subject so I thought we would just skip the introductions and move right onto debunking the secrets to sex." He announced, circling the chair and plopping down on it, using his feet to push the chair closer to where the class sat waiting with baited breath. "Come on? No takers? You really are a disappointing bunch. I suppose you are all experts, right?"

"How about you?" Professor Jones cocked a teasing eyebrow as he wheeled his way to where Emma sat slack jawed in horror at being put on the spot.

Emma pointed to herself in question, asking him to confirm her as his intended target.

"Yes. You." He smiled. "You look like you might have something to say." He tilted his head to the side as he faced her head on.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words would come out. She wished a hole would just open and swallow her whole to save her from the humiliation that this professor had managed to steal the breath from her lungs by just being in close proximity to him. "I… well I… I don't…" She stammered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Think Emma!" She demanded for herself. "If you don't say something right now you will be the student who lost her confidence in front of the ridiculously hot professor — she would never be able to look him in the eye if she didn't say something — anything — say anything — just say words."

My God she was an embarrassment to her gender, she thought as she averted her gaze awkwardly. "Women enjoy sex just as much as men do. Probably even more." She managed, nearly sinking in her chair with relief.

Professor Jones looked pleasantly surprised by her assessment as he crossed his arms over his chest in amusement. "That is a brilliant deduction — albeit a very common one." He agreed, not taking his eyes off her as he flashed her a sexy smirk that made her stomach clench in response. "While this is highly debatable for some… I'm rather inclined to agree with you Miss?" He searched for her name.

"Emma. Emma Swan." She swallowed, eyeing him intensely.

"Emma." He nodded before retreating. "However, it is not on the basis of psychological fact. It's merely an opinion. The truth of the matter is that everyone is different and every person responds differently sexually. For instance, some women can only achieve sexual orgasm through the clitoris while others can experience orgasms vaginally." He rasped, voicing the material without an ounce of shame or pause — it was if he was reading from the phone book — if the person reading the phone book had a sexy Irish accent.

"Some places are just far more sensitive than others but the important thing is what feels good and why we feel it. Why are we drawn to the feelings of pleasure it gives us and why are we so obsessed with it? And that is what this class is all about." He said resolutely, glancing back at Emma to make sure she was listening to him before moving on.

Emma was completely engrossed with him — every word that left his sinfully perfect lips made the breath hitch in her throat and she had to clench her thighs together as desire pooled in her panties — which were now completely soaked courtesy of one Professor Killian Jones. His voice faded in and out of her ears for several minutes, entranced by its melodic sound and she had to bite down on her lip to keep from moaning.

"Is it true that men can have multiple orgasms?" One student asked him.

"Absolutely." He stroked his chin. "Tell your boyfriend he is concentrating too hard." He let out a light hearted chuckle that was returned with laughter from the class.

"Anyone else? Come on no need to be shy. I'm only your professor and participation is worth 20 percent of your final grade." He told them, pleased as he watched a number of hands jolt up into the air.

She slumped in her seat, feeling her skin flush with heat as the ache between her thighs became too much to handle. Her eyes drifted over to the clock on the wall as she tried to concentrate on counting down the minutes before hauling ass out of there to go back to her dorm room to take care of herself.

His voice was drowning in her ears against a cascade of laughter at each question he was asked — taking everything in stride and doing it flawlessly. It was a wonder to behold given the taboo around sex.

"Contrary to what the world is preaching right now, you should feel free to explore your own body. Find out what you don't like. Find out what you do like. Find out if you don't like anything at all. Self pleasure can be a good way to figure out what your body responds to. And it is a very natural and beautiful thing."

Dear God! How much longer was he going to keep talking about this? She felt like she was going to explode if she didn't touch herself soon. Any moment now and she was about to reenact the scene from 'When Harry Met Sally' — then everyone would know what she was having, including her cheeky professor. How was she supposed to make it an entire semester trying to resist the urge to fuck herself in the middle of class? Fuck her grades, this was a nightmare! She could always drop the course-

"Well that's about all the time we have for today I'm afraid." He clapped his hands together to a chorus of groans. "You don't need to fake displeasure to boost my ego. You'll find that I manage quite well without it. I will be sticking around for awhile after class for any who have questions for me. Thank you so much and I will see you all on Thursday. Please remember to review the syllabus and take the quiz posted on the class page. It is anonymous but it will give me an idea of wherever is at on the subject of sex."

Thank you jesus!

She wasted no time in shoving her supplies back into her back and grabbing her winter clothing so she could haul ass out of the lecture all like someone had lit an actual fire under her — which was probably more accurate than she intended it to be.

Emma walked as fast as she could through the courtyard, bearing down on her teeth, every step she took pushing her closer to the edge as her clit pushed up against the zipper of her jeans. Damn that smug man and his unfair charming good looks and his accent that had seemingly burned her insides.

She practically tripped her way into her dorm room, throwing her bag against the bed as she shut the door behind her. Leaning against the door, she pressed her body against the unyielding wood as she worked the fastenings of her jeans free before rolling them down to sit just underneath her ass.

Emma's back arched, her breath hitching in anticipation as her fingers dipped below the waistband of her panties, and sank two of her trembling digits into her soaking depths. She gasped at the contact, her eyes fluttering closed as she pumped them in and out of her tight core, her hips instinctively bucking back against her motions as sighs of contentment fell from her lips.

She whimpered, mewling in pleasure as she shamelessly rutted against herself as thumb swept over the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. She clenched around her fingers, feeling the pressure building in her stomach as she imagined her professor's dark locks disappearing between her legs as he darted his tongue out to taste her.

"Fuck." She cursed, fucking herself harder as she conjured up images of her hands threated in his hair as she rode his mouth, slick with her arousal. "Oh God… Oh God… Oh God..." She whined as she envisioned him tongue flicking her clit before sucking it into his mouth as she keened against him until she shattered under his expert ministrations. "Professor Jones!" His name came tumbling from her mouth as she reached her precipice, swirling the pad of her thumb over her clit, working herself through the tremors of her orgasm.

Emma retracted her fingers from herself, leaning against the door as she caught her breath. She couldn't believe she had just said his name during her climax! She supposed she wasn't the first to do it she certainly wouldn't be the last, but damn if it didn't feel fucking incredible to get off to that man. She pushed her hair from her forehead and pushed off from the door to settle onto her bed before retrieving her laptop from where she left it on the nightstand.

She wasted no time connecting to the university's network and logged into her student profile that connected her with the content for her classes. She checked the announcements posted from her professors and moved her cursor over to PSYCH357 and clicked it to pull up the message he had sent out. Her eyes roved over the message introducing himself as her professor and it finished with a reminder to take the class survey for a participation grade even though it would be graded anonymously.

She navigated back to the home page and ventured into the class section to review the syllabus and read the professor's introduction:

About the Professor

Professor Killian Jones is a professor of psychology with a specialization in human sexuality. He earned his graduate degree in sexual psychology from the University of Dublin before receiving his doctorate in human sexuality from Penn State University. Professor Jones has published several peer reviewed doctoral papers on the psychology of sex including "The Psychology of Feeling Good" and "The Brain's Sexual Response to Stimulation."

Emma cursed under her breath, feeling her sex twitch as she tentatively read his biography. No. She shook her head. No. I'm not going to go there, she told herself. She clicked off the page and hovered over the class assignments before clicking the introductory survey. The instructions read:

Welcome to PSYCH357. I'm sure we will be getting to know each other quite well over the next several weeks. I'm asking that you fill out this anonymous class survey so that I can get a better understand for where the class is at on the topic of sex. While I won't know which questionnaire belongs to whom, I can see who didn't provide one. This survey will count towards your final participation grade. I expect you all to give honest serious answers. It is due before Thursday's class and I'm looking forward to reading your intriguing responses.

Emma sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, her eyes widening expectantly before throwing caution to the wind and clicking the 'start' button. She scrolled through all the questions and gulped — they were all short answer questions! Not a single one was multiple choice!

She groaned, before grudgingly flicking over her laptop's touchpad to reach the top of the questionnaire.

Question 1: What is your experience with sex?

You've got to be fucking kidding me! Can your professor even ask such an invasive question without being fired?

Skip.

Question 2: Describe your earliest sexual experience.

What the actual fuck! She had a pervert for a professor.

Okay. Next question.

Question 3: When did you experience your first orgasm?

Excuse me? How has he not been fired already?

Question 4: Describe your ideal sexual partner.

No. Absolutely not.

Question 5: What attracts you most to a potential sexual partner?

No. She was not filling this out. There was no fucking way. This had to be some sick joke that he would laugh about on Thursday.

Question 6: How would you describe your sexual attraction?

Question 7: How do you define your own personal sexuality?

Question 8: How often do you masturbate?

The fuck?

Question 9: Describe your first sexual encounter with a sexual partner.

Question 10: What do you hope to gain from taking this course?

There was no way she was filling this out. She knew it was graded anonymously but she wasn't going to risk him laughing straight in her face. She could just imagine him reviewing the survey's with all the more experienced students before getting to hers and spitting his coffee out all over his computer screen.

No. Just no. Absolutely fucking not. Forget about it.

She closed the lid to her laptop, shoving it away from her in frustration. And she did forget about it — that was until the following Tuesday.

AN- It isn't a Cat story without opening with a masturbation scene. But yes, You can expect at least 12-14 chapters of this because that is how long a semester is. Each chapter will be a new lesson and things will get hot. A big shout out to the reddit forum that said that everyone bugs the professor with sex questions throughout the semester. It worked for this fic so I'm going with it. Also I am not a professor or a sex expert (even if I pretend to be one) so go easy on me. Most people wish their professors would talk about this shit. I'm sure there is a fine line for the material for a class like this. Forgive me.