"Honestly, why can't you men control yourselves!?" Dr. Hurley complains as she stares at your poking erection. However, it seems to you that her delivery of the complaint is rather sultry and breathy, perhaps in spite of herself.
"Honestly, Doctor, it really does seem to have a mind of its own -- so I can not be held responsible for it!"
No sooner do you say that than you like that, the very idea of some wild sexual imp for who you get to claim no responsibility. You feel another shiver, and your "second mind" clearly warms to your idea, as it begins to grow, not only in out-thrust length but in girth and hardness.
Dr. Hurley licks her suddenly dry lips, and you sense that her primal womanliness can not help but respond on the most basic and sub-rational level to your blatant maleness. Even through her blouse and bra, you can make out her nipples puffing and peaking quite obviously.