Chapter 236: 236. What Kind Of Man To Climax Just For Ten Seconds Through Stroking?!**

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, the steam from the bath curling around her like ghostly fingers, but Sabrina’s entire universe had shrunk down to the singular, overwhelming sight inches from her face.

She was paralyzed, her body still humming from the aftershocks of her climax, but her mind was racing at a frantic, dizzying speed.

She couldn’t speak. The sophisticated, articulate words she usually used to dissect philosophy and literature had vanished, replaced by a primal, breathless silence.

All she could do was stare, her eyes wide and unblinking, her chest heaving as she struggled to pull in enough air to sustain her racing heart.

’How... how is that even possible?’ her mind screamed, the thought echoing in the hollow space of her consciousness. ’It’s not just large... it’s... it’s monumental...’

’It looks like it was carved from something more powerful than a man...’

’It’s so thick, so heavy... the veins are pulsing right in front of my eyes like they have a heartbeat of their own.’

She found herself leaning forward instinctively, drawn by a magnetic, almost hypnotic force. She was so close now that the heat radiating from him felt like a physical weight against her skin.

And then, the scent hit her. It wasn’t just the lingering aroma of the Scotch or the soap; it was the raw, intoxicating scent of him, a musky, salty, masculine aroma that seemed to emanate from the very core of his virility.

It was the smell of pure, unadulterated manhood, and it made her head swim more than the alcohol ever could.

’It smells... like him,’ she thought, a shudder running through her entire frame. ’It smells like heat, skin, and... power.’

’It’s so overwhelming, and it’s almost intimidating... almost frightening.’

As she stared, her mind, treacherous and unbidden, began to wander to her past. She thought of her partner, the man she had been seeing for the last year.

Her partner was a "perfect" man on paper kind, intelligent, and incredibly gentle. But as she looked at the massive, throbbing reality of Mike, the memory of her partner felt like a pale, flickering shadow.

’My partner...’ she thought, a wave of sudden, sharp embarrassment washing over her. ’He was so careful... and so delicate.’

’Every time we were together, it felt like he was handling a piece of fine china, terrified of breaking me...’

’And he was... he was so small...’

’So insignificant compared to this...’

’It was a polite, measured thing... a mere suggestion of pleasure.’

’It never made me feel... this. It never made me feel like the world was ending.’

The comparison was brutal, almost sacrilegious, but she couldn’t help it. She looked at the sheer, intimidating girth of Mike’s cock, the way it seemed to dominate the very space between them, and she felt a profound sense of inadequacy for all the years she had spent settling for "gentle."

’I spent my whole life thinking this was what intimacy was supposed to be,’ she realized, her eyes tracing the dark, heavy lines of him. ’I thought control was the goal...’

’I thought being the one in charge was the ultimate satisfaction...’

’But looking at him right... especially by looking at this... all of that feels like a lie...’

’This isn’t a polite conversation, but this is a... storm.’

’This is a force of nature that is going to sweep everything I thought I knew about myself away.’

She felt a sudden, desperate urge to reach out and touch it, to see if it was as hot and solid as it looked, to confirm that the experience wasn’t a fever dream brought on by the Scotch. Her fingers twitched in the water, her breath coming in short, jagged hitches.

’It’s so close...’ she thought, her gaze locked on the pulsing tip. ’I can see the way it reacts to the air... the way it’s so heavy it almost seems to pull at him.’

’If that enters me... if that fills the void inside me... will there be anything left of the Professor?’

’Or will there only be Sabrina?’

She was mesmerized, trapped in the gravity of his masculinity, her dignity completely surrendered to the sheer, terrifying majesty of the man standing before her.

The silence in the bathroom was heavy, thick with the scent of musk and the unspoken tension of Sabrina’s intense, wide-eyed scrutiny. Mike watched her, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face as he noticed the way her gaze was practically glued to him, her pupils dilated until her eyes were almost entirely black.

He let out a low, mocking chuckle, the sound vibrating in his chest.

"Take a picture, Professor," he teased, his voice dripping with a cocky, masculine arrogance. "It might last longer than your concentration."

"Or are you just trying to figure out if you can actually fit all of that in your mouth?"

Sabrina snapped out of her trance, a hot flush of crimson creeping up her neck and flooding her cheeks. She tried to regain some semblance of her academic poise, but her breathing was still ragged, and her eyes kept betraying her by flickering back down to his massive, pulsing length.

"Don’t be... so arrogant," she managed to rasp, trying to inject a bit of her usual bite into her voice, though it came out more breathless than she intended. "Just because you’re... well, imposing... doesn’t mean you’ve won the entire lecture yet."

Mike leaned forward slightly, his shadow looming over her in the dim light. "Is that so?"

’Because from where I’m standing, you look like a woman who has just discovered a new continent and has no idea how to navigate it..."

"You’re staring like you’ve never seen a real man before."

He paused, his eyes narrowing with a mischievous, cruel glint. "Or maybe you’re just used to something much... smaller?"

"Something more... manageable, maybe?"

Sabrina felt a prickle of indignation. The mention of her past, even if implied, hit a nerve.

She straightened her spine in the water, her eyes flashing with a sudden, defiant spark.

"Manageable is one word for it," she countered, her voice gaining a sudden, sharp clarity. "But don’t mistake ’gentle’ for ’incapable.’"

"If you think my experience is lacking just because my partner isn’t... a titan... then you’re mistaken..."

"In fact," she added, a small, challenging smirk playing on her lips despite her racing heart, "I am an absolute expert at taking care of him."

"I can guarantee you, Mike, that if you let me, I could make you lose that smug composure and cum faster than you can even think about lecturing me."

Mike’s eyebrows shot up. He let out a short, surprised bark of a laugh, his interest visibly piqued.

He leaned back slightly, crossing his massive arms over his chest, looking down at her with a newfound curiosity.

"An expert, huh?" he challenged, his voice dropping into a low, intrigued rumble. "A bold claim, Professor."

"Especially considering the... discrepancy in scale..." Mike grinned. "You think you can handle this much man with those lips?"

"I don’t just think it... I know it," she shot back, her bravado fueled by the lingering warmth of the alcohol and a sudden, desperate need to prove she wasn’t just a submissive victim. "I know exactly how to use my mouth, my tongue, the pressure... everything!"

"I can make a man lose his mind in seconds."

Mike let out a loud, booming laugh that echoed off the tiles, a sound of pure, incredulous amusement. "Is that right?"

"Then tell me, Professor..."

"Give me a benchmark." Mike crossed his arms. "How long does it take your ’expert’ skills to finish one of these... manageable... men?"

Sabrina hesitated for a split second, her pride warring with the truth, but she wasn’t about to back down from a challenge. She leaned back, looking him dead in the eye with a look of mock solemnity.

"My partner?" she said, her voice dry. "He was a very sensitive man. With the right... technique... he would usually reach his limit after about ten seconds of stroking..."

"It was quite efficient, really."

The silence that followed lasted only a heartbeat before Mike exploded into a roar of laughter. He threw his head back, his massive shoulders shaking, the sound of his mirth filling the room and making the very air vibrate.

"Ten seconds?!?!" he roared, pointing a finger at her, his eyes watering from the force of his amusement. "Ten seconds! Oh my fucking god, Sabrina, you weren’t a lover, you were a sprinter!"

"You weren’t giving him pleasure; you were running a timed trial!"

He leaned down closer to her, his face inches from hers, his laughter dying down into a dark, hungry grin that made her stomach flip.

"Ten seconds," he repeated, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "Well, Professor, looks like you’ve got a lot of catching up to do."

"Because with me? Ten seconds is just the warm-up..."

"Let’s see if that ’expert’ mouth of yours can actually handle a marathon."