Sabrina’s face flushed a deep, furious crimson. The laughter was the final straw; she had prided herself on her competence in all things, and to have her intimate skills reduced to a punchline was infuriating.

She glared up at him, her eyes snapping with indignation, her lips trembling as she struggled to maintain her dignity in the face of his mockery.

"You think it’s funny?" she snapped, her voice shaking with a mix of rage and humiliated disbelief. "You think I was just... playing around?"

"My partner was a gentleman, Mike!"

"He was considerate, and he was--"

"He was a FUCKING weakling," Mike interrupted, his voice flat and devoid of empathy.

Without warning, he reached down and wrapped his large, calloused hand around the base of his cock. He didn’t just hold it; he began to stroke himself with a slow, deliberate rhythm, his eyes locked onto hers, challenging her to look away.

Sabrina couldn’t. She was mesmerized, her anger momentarily forgotten as she watched the muscles of his arm ripple with every stroke.

The sight of him handling himself with such casual, confident dominance made her breath hitch.

"You call that ten-second man a ’gentleman’?" Mike continued, his voice low and scathing even as he continued to stroke. "That’s not being considerate, Sabrina."

"That’s a lack of stamina... and my fucking god... that’s a man who can’t handle the pressure of a woman’s body."

Mike laughed. "You’ve been settling for a man who’s afraid to push you, afraid to actually take what he wants."

"Thank god that it was my decision to not tell you his name." In a sudden, impulsive surge of defiance, Sabrina reached out. "I’ll fucking show you right now!"

She wanted to prove him wrong, to show him that she could handle whatever he threw at her. Her fingers closed around him, and the moment her skin touched his, she gasped.

It wasn’t like his partner. It wasn’t soft or slight.

The texture was entirely different; his skin was taut, almost unyielding, like a polished stone, and the heat radiating from him was almost searing. It felt like holding a living, breathing, pulsating piece of hot iron.

The sheer density of him was staggering, and she couldn’t help but marvel at the way his veins felt beneath her fingertips, thick and rigid, like steel cables.

And then she felt his balls. They were massive, heavy weights that pressed firmly against her palm, a stark contrast to the meager, shrunken globes she was accustomed to.

They felt like solid spheres of heat, a testament to the sheer will and vitality he possessed.

’My god,’ she thought, her fingers trembling as she involuntarily squeezed. ’It’s like... holding a wild animal.’

’I can feel the blood rushing through him, the sheer force of it...’

’It’s not just the size... it’s the weight...’

’It’s so heavy, and... how does he even walk with this between his legs?"

Mike let out a low, guttural sound as she squeezed, a half-growl that made her stomach flip. He didn’t pull away; instead, he leaned in, his voice a dark, cruel murmur in her ear.

"Does it feel different, Professor?" Mike grinned. "Does it feel a little more ’substantial’ than what you’re used to?"

Sabrina tried to pull back, trying to maintain some shred of her pride, but her hand wouldn’t obey. She was mesmerized by the sheer physical presence of him, the way his body seemed to consume everything around it.

"I... I think," she stammered, her voice small and fragile.

Mike chuckled, a deep, mocking sound. "You think? You’re not sure?"

"I bet you’ve never even had to worry about whether you could take it all, have you?"

"I bet you’ve never woken up the next morning feeling like you were run over by a truck." He stroked himself again, his hand moving faster now, the sound of his friction wet and heavy in the silence of the bathroom. "I can go for hours, Sabrina."

"I control when it ends, not the other way around..."

"Your little ten-second boyfriend... he was probably grateful you didn’t laugh at him."

A surge of shame washed over Sabrina, but it quickly transformed into a burning, desperate curiosity. She wanted to know more.

She wanted to feel how this massive, overpowering thing would feel inside her, whether it would tear her apart or put her back together.

"I’m not that... naive," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the pulsing, dark length of him.

"No," Mike agreed, his eyes burning with a cold, hard fire. "You’re just undereducated."

"And tonight, I’m going to teach you everything your little boyfriend forgot to mention."

The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on, a volatile mix of Sabrina’s wounded pride and Mike’s overwhelming, arrogant dominance. Mike watched her fingers tremble against his skin, his eyes dark and unreadable.

He wasn’t just enjoying her confusion; he was playing with her, treating her entire sexual history like a trivial footnote.

"You talk a big game, Professor," Mike said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very water she sat in.

He leaned back slightly, spreading his legs wider to give her better access, his massive cock standing proud and unyielding in her grasp. "You claim to be an expert, and you also claim that you can make a man lose his mind in seconds."

"So, why don’t we put those theories to the test?"

He looked her dead in the eye, a mocking glint in his gaze. "Stroke me... Right the fuck now!"

"Use that ’expert’ technique of yours to show us whether you can break me in ten seconds, just like your little boyfriend did."

Sabrina felt a surge of frantic, desperate energy. She had to prove it.

She had to reclaim her dignity. If she could make this titan, this man who looked like he was carved from obsidian, crack within ten seconds, she would win. She would prove that she wasn’t just a woman who settled for the "manageable."

’Watch me,’ she thought, her jaw setting with a fierce, determined grit. ’Watch me break you.’

She gripped him with both hands, her fingers digging into the heavy, velvet-wrapped muscle. She began to stroke him with a frantic, punishing intensity, her movements fast and aggressive.

She didn’t hold back; she used every ounce of the strength in her hands, sliding her palms up and down the long, pulsing shaft, trying to create enough friction to ignite a fire.

"Come on, Mike," she hissed, her voice dropping into a sultry, desperate growl.

She leaned in closer, her breath hot against the underside of his cock, her eyes burning with a mix of lust and competitive rage. "Don’t just stand there like a statue! Feel this!"

"Feel how much you want it!" Sabrina grinned. "You want to lose control, don’t you?!"

"You want to feel me taking everything from you..."

She increased the pace, her hand becoming a blur of motion. She used her thumb to grind hard against the sensitive, swollen head, her tongue darting out to lick the underside of the shaft, her words becoming increasingly filthy, a stream of dirty, uninhibited commands intended to shatter his composure.

"Give it to me... let it go... let me feel how much of a man you are... break for me, Mike! Cum for me!"

But as she worked herself into a frenzy, as her heart hammered against her ribs and her breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, she realized with a sinking sense of dread that she was fighting a losing battle.

Mike wasn’t reacting. He wasn’t even flinching.

He sat there, leaning back against the edge of the tub, his expression utterly nonchalant, almost bored. He looked like a man watching a mild rain shower rather than a woman trying to force a climax out of him with everything she had.

His eyes remained calm, his breathing steady, almost rhythmic.

"One..." he said, his voice cool and incredibly slow.

Sabrina’s eyes widened. She doubled her efforts, her hands moving so fast they felt like they might burn.

She was sweating now, her hair sticking to her face, her entire body vibrating with the effort of her assault.

"Two... three..." Mike continued, his voice a steady, mocking metronome.

’Why isn’t he reacting?!’ she screamed internally, a wave of pure, unadulterated panic rising in her throat. ’It’s too much! The friction is intense, the heat is incredible... he should be at his limit!’

’Why is he so... so damn still?!’

"Four... five..."

She was becoming desperate. His endurance had transformed the competitive edge into a frantic need to succeed, instilling a fear of utter humiliation.

She began to use her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip with a ferocity that would have brought any other man to his knees, her hands working the base with a rhythmic, heavy pressure.

"Six... seven..."

She was panting now, her chest heaving, her eyes searching his face for even the slightest tremor, the slightest sign of weakness. But there was nothing. Only that maddening, calm, predatory gaze.

"Eight... nine..."

She was practically vibrating with the effort, her muscles aching, her mind a chaotic mess of lust and frustration. She was giving him everything, the speed, the pressure, the filthiest words she could conjure, and he was simply... counting. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"Ten."