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Alone in the art room she became his project.
at? What's going to feel a little-"
WHAT THE FUCK. As I had been prepping, Tara had put a latex glove on her right hand, and then coated the middle and index fingers with KY Jelly. As I stood there, completely vulnerable, she took her middle finger and shoved it straight up my ass.
"Uh, that's a wee tad uncomfortable!" I said, feeling a bit of stress come on.
"Just a second... ah, there," she said. And as she said that, I suddenly felt a wave of the best feeling possible pass over my body.
"Wow... you just found the prostate, didn't you?" I asked.
"Yeah," she replied, a little distractedly. "It's basically the male equivalent of the G-spot. Now... if you could do me a favor, I would like it if you could think of something as non-sexual as possible."
No problem. One of these days, Barry Bonds is going to hit home run 756, and I want to be there to see it. Not only that, but I want him to hit it off of the only pitcher he can't hit - Randy Johnson. So, whenever I need to think of something non-sexual, it's always that future baseball game.
And Johnson delivers. Fastball on the way... Bonds makes contact... it's long... it could... oh, no, wait, it's pulling foul. Count is now 2-2 on Bonds, as he returns to the pl-
JESUS CHRIST. Tara just did something that completely snapped me out and almost made me cum, but not quite. Drawing a shaky breath, I returned to the baseball game.
Count is now 2-2 on Bonds, as he returns to the plate. He gets set. Johnson winds up, with the pitch... Bonds makes contact... it's going way, way back... Gonzalez is back to the warning track...
OH MY DEAR SWEET GOD. Tara applied just the right amount of pressure. It brought me completely out of PacBell Park, and as I came back to reality, I realized that I was cumming harder than I ever had before. It seemed to go on forever, too, and by the time I finished, my knees couldn't hold me any more, and I collapsed to the floor.
Tara clicked off her watch as she removed her finger from my ass. "Wow," she said. "One minute, nineteen seconds - a full twelve seconds than any of my subjects before has lasted."
With that, she peeled off the condom, being very careful not to spill any of the cum. She placed it on the scale, and then calibrated it to account for the weight of the condom. Her right eyebrow went up, and she looked at me. "Not to mention a full fifth of an ounce of cum more than any of them."
My cock was already going soft, but I was still gasping for breath, I composed myself. "If I may ask, how did you accomplish that?"
"Well, it's really very simple," she said. "You just have to find the prostate and apply the right amount of pressure in the right place, at the right time. Unfortunately, it's almost impossible for guys to do it to themselves, because of the angle of your fingers as opposed to your ass. Do you have any other questions about it?"
"Not really," I said. Then something popped into my head. "I had heard a rumor about something you did with a beer bottle at your discussion group for your human sexuality class?"
"Oh, it's no rumor," she said with a smile on her face. "I did in fact pull a beer bottle, neck first, into my pussy, using nothing but the muscles of my vaginal walls."
HOLY SHIT. "Ummm..."
"You want to see a demonstration?" she laughed. "You got an empty beer bottle?"
In fact, I had about fifteen empty beer bottles. I pulled one out of the recycle bin, ran it under hot water to sanitize it a bit, then ran it under cold water to cool it back down. By the time I got back out to the main room, Tara had already taken off her jeans and underwear, and was now standing in front of me completely nude (I had almost forgotten that I, myself, was still nude from the waste down). And, as always happens with her, I found out something new about her sexuality - her pussy was completely shaved - smooth as a baby's butt.
Setting the beer bottle down on the floor, Tara crouched down over it until the first centimeter or so of the mouth was between the lips of her pussy.