A Veteran's Day Exam (pt. 03)

THIS IS PART THREE OF AN ONGOING STORY

It was Veteran’s Day. That meant my week ended early, since Veteran’s Day fell on a Thursday that year, and I have no Friday classes. So, I was sitting at home, by myself (as an R.A., I get an entire dorm room to myself!), watching Spaceballs for the umpteen-millionth time (it’s still damn funny!), when my phone rang.

Pausing the movie in the middle of the Battle of the Schwartzes, I grabbed the phone and answered it. "Hello?”

“Jason!” came the voice of my friend Tara from the other end. “I haven’t talked to you in two whole weeks!”

I had to laugh. Before two weeks ago, it had been nearly a year since I had talked to her. “Honestly,” I replied, “there wasn’t much talking done that morning two weeks ago either.”

Laughing, Tara said, “Well, I suppose that’s true. Not much talking we could’ve done with me under the table and your cock in my mouth.”

Leave it to Tara to state the obvious. I remembered that morning quite well – it was the first action I had gotten from anything but my hand in nearly two months.

“Anyway,” Tara continued, “enough bullshit. I have a mega-huge favor to ask of you.”

“Shoot,” I said.

“Hah!” she laughed. “That’s the funny thing… it involves more you shooting than me.”

What? Where the hell was this going?

“You see,” she said, “I’m doing a study for my human sexuality class on male response to stimulation of the prostate.”

Oh boy. “So what is it you need me to do?”

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind me coming over to your dorm for about half an hour, I can do my test, get the results, and be done before you even realize I was there.”

Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, and if I didn’t even have to leave my dorm, why not?

She hung up, saying that she’d see me in twenty minutes – more than enough time to finish Spaceballs.

Lone Starr had just been successful in his efforts to win Princess Vespa when there was a knock on my door. Stopping the movie just short of the beginning of the credits, I crossed to the door and opened it. “Hi Jason!” Tara said, walking in the door, a grocery bag in her hand.

“So what is it you need me to do?” I asked as she walked in and began spreading the contents of the grocery bag on my counter. Closing my door, I turned to examine what she had brought with her.

A condom (still in its package, thank God). A pair of latex rubber gloves. A tube of KY Jelly. A small postage scale. What the fuck?

“I need you, first of all, to drop trou. Then, I need you to get an erection.”

What? “Wait a second,” I replied. “Unlike two weeks ago, when I still had a massive case of blue balls, I can no longer just get a spontaneous erection. I’ve got that under control these days.”

“Oh, Jesus H. Christ,” she snapped. “Do I have to do everything for you?”

With that, she crossed to me, jerked my khakis and my boxers down to my ankles, and then with a swift, almost fluid motion, pulled her shirt up and over her head, revealing her huge, but entirely natural, 36D breasts.

Well, that did the trick. My cock sprang up to attention at the sight of her tits.

“See,” she said, “was it really that hard?”

“Well, it is now… pardon the pun.”

“Oh my God,” she replied. “That was horrible.”

Whatever. “So, now what do you need me to do?”

She picked up the condom and tossed it to me. “Put that on, and then lean against the wall, with your hands supporting you.”

Okay, this was getting a little bizarre, but what the heck. I opened the condom package, then rolled the condom down over my cock. This took a moment – I actually had not, at that time, yet used a condom. I leaned against the wall, using my hands for support.

“Okay,” said Tara, crossing behind me, “now this is going to feel a little weird.”

“What? 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. At that point, she did something – I saw no external sign of effort, but she obviously did something, because the entire neck of the bottle suddenly jumped up inside of her. She released it, and let it slide out to the mouth again, and then contracted once more, pulling it up inside of herself.

“HO-ly SHIT!” I gasped. “That was absolutely unbelievable!”

“There are a number of vaginal exercises that women can do to really increase the strength of their vaginas,” she said, very matter-of-factly. “When they increase the strength of the vaginal wall, orgasms tend to be more intense and last longer.”

Well, you learn something new every day. I was going to HAVE to find a way for Erin to find about this!

“And apparently, you liked it,” said Tara, smiling as she looked downward.

I looked down, too, and saw that my cock was once again hard and twitching.

“Now,” Tara said, “having given you that demonstration, it wouldn’t be fair for me to leave without showing you a practical use for it. Kindly lay down on the floor.”

What? I just stood there, looking at her dumbly. For an honors student, I can react pretty stupidly sometimes.

“Jason!” she said. I snapped out of the dumbness. “Lay down on the floor!”

I quickly did as she asked. Then, she crouched down over me just as she had the beer bottle, but instead of taking just the tip of my cock into her pussy, she came down all the way onto it. It felt incredible – a warm tube, forming itself to my cock. Not quite as tight as Erin’s, but very comfortable. Then she did something.

I’m not quite sure what she did, but there was a sudden ripple of the muscles in her pussy that made me gasp in surprise. From top to bottom, she contracted the muscles of her vaginal walls and caused the ripple effect up and down my cock. She did that a couple more times, then started simply grinding against me.

Without ever moving up and down, without any part of my cock ever leaving her pussy, she was able to, in less than three minutes, bring me to orgasm. Fortunately for her, the control she had gained by doing her exercises allowed her to control when to release her own orgasm, so she could cum at the same time as me.

But that wasn’t all she had in mind. As I felt climax approaching, I gasped, “I’m about to cum!” Leaning over me, she shoved her middle finger up my ass again. Such was the pressure that was immediately applied to my prostate, I cummed inside of her like a rocket taking off. She released her own orgasm at the same time, cumming as I did. I shot a good ten streams of cum inside of her with a pressure like I had never felt before.

When I finished, I couldn’t even pull my cock out of her, I was so drained of energy. She laid on top of me for a moment, then rolled off. As she stood up, my cum came gushing out of her like a torrent.

“Wow,” she said, very amused, as it ran down her leg and pooled on my floor (thank God for linoleum). “Between the exercises and the prostate thing, you could set a record for most semen in one ejaculation!”

Still not able to move, I forced my voice to work, and croaked, “Um, if you find a way, do you think you could…”

“Somehow let Erin know about both?” she laughed. “Absolutely. My goal in life is to improve my friends’ sex lives, so if this will help you and Erin out, I’m more than willing.”

I had finally recovered and was dressed again by the time she was packed up and ready to go.

“Thanks,” she said, giving me a quick kiss.

“Yeah, any time,” I said, leaning against the wall for support. “Um, if you have any more human sexuality studies, and you need my help…”

“I’ll definitely call,” she replied, with a laugh. With that, she was gone.

I collapsed into my recliner. If Erin can really learn how to do that…

Things were definitely looking up.