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Hard Lessons by Reed Manning
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Copyright ©1991 by Reed Manning First published in Club International, May 1991 NOTICE: This ebook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This book cannot be legally lent or given to others. This ebook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.
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Hard Lessons by Reed Manning
Of all the women that have ever sucked my cock, Rebecca was the best. On the day of her final exam, she began by engulfing my awakening rod and holding it there, nestled between tongue, cheeks, and lips. The heat of her mouth stiffened me to the rigidity of a telephone pole. She murmured appreciatively and got down to business. “Notice how she uses slow, gliding motions, up and down the penis, sucking very gently,” Bridget said. The headmistress moved to the side as she spoke, allowing the three young women with her to shift closer to the bed. Once the observers had had a chance to memorize the technical particulars, Rebecca added a hand around the base of my cock. “A little squeeze at the base of the shaft constricts the veins, causing more blood to stay within the penis,” Bridget explained. “Not only does he get more rigid, but more sensitive as well.” She could say that again. Rebecca sucked a little harder now, knowing my hard-on was ready for it. The headmistress's running commentary faded into the background. I'd listened to her give lessons a million times. The words and the audience were, to me, like the wainscotting or the chandeliers—just part of the interior decoration. What kept my attention was the superb head I was receiving. Rebecca slid her mouth up and down at a steady, but not overly fast, rate. Her lips descended until they touched the 3
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cradle of her forefinger and thumb, then her palm rose as she glided back up. With the hand helping, it felt like her mouth was a mile deep. She never took her mouth completely away, though sometimes I could see the purplish rim of the knob peek into view between her lips. She was letting my cock know that when it came time to shoot, her throat would be ready and waiting. The time arrived. “See his balls rise up tight at the base of his erection? He's going to come,” Bridget announced. The tingles started down at the root, beneath the massaging fingers of her hand, and spread from there. My wad surged up. “Ghhhhaaahh,” I groaned. I'd been saving this one. Cum poured into Rebecca's mouth. She gulped quickly, knowing how copious I can be, and was ready for the next thick plug. She never lost the rhythm as I fired into her again and again. She swallowed one last time, and, as a pièce de résistance, she deep-throated me and held it all the way in until I had stopped quivering. One of the women observers widened her eyes in disbelief. Another one applauded. Rebecca had taken a mere four minutes to get me off. As planned. “Excellent,” declared Bridget. She tapped a kitchen timer on the davenport next to the bed. “You've got fifty-six minutes to bring him to orgasm two more times.”
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Rebecca gave the headmistress a confident thumbs up, and kept licking the softening knob of my prick as if she'd never tasted anything so good. Bridget smiled approvingly. “Attitude is everything,” she intoned to her three pupils. She led them into the next room to let them observe Monica, one of the veteran instructors, as she demonstrated how to make a man come without touching his dick. When I say Rebecca was the best cocksucker I've ever encountered, it's no idle compliment. I've been one of Bridget's “assistants” for almost five years. At least two hundred, maybe three hundred women have sucked me off since I signed on here at the Aphrodite Finishing School. Not one of them was an amateur. You won't find the Aphrodite Finishing School in any phone book. There's no name on the mail box or the front door. The building is a large, handsome, two-story mansion overlooking Lake Tahoe. On the Nevada side, of course. This is the place where, for appropriate fees, the world's top prostitutes come to hone the skills on which their livelihood depends. You may say that women as foxy as the kind that troop through these hallways don't need to worry about how well they perform. Nature blessed them with boobs that could yank men's eyes right out their sockets, waists slim and taut as those of acrobats, and pussies so snug and moist that other women might as well sew theirs up and go back to being virgins. Chicks who look like that ought to know how to do everything on the first try, right? 5
Hard Lessons by Reed Manning
Don't bet on it. There's always room for improvement. At a certain price level, a call girl has to be perfect at everything, or she's not going to keep up with the competition. Madams want girls who will increase the reputation of the brothel; and top flesh brokers can't waste time giving an assignment to a lady who can't do what's asked of her. Like fashion models, even the world's best hookers have only got a few years of prime earning power. So they flock to Bridget's elegant classrooms, and she completes their education. Most of the girls are already damn good at sex, or they wouldn't be here. But each has some area that needs refinement. I work with those who just don't quite have the knack when it comes to blow jobs. That doesn't mean they don't know how to make a man come in their mouths. Quite the contrary—I'll testify to that. Any regular guy would be grateful to have any of the new arrivals as his girl friend. But not all of them know how to swallow a wad without gagging. Not all of them can deep throat. Not all of them can keep sucking for forty minutes straight. Not all of them can judge when a cock is ready for vigorous treatment, and when it needs to be pampered. And very few know how to give such great head that the john won't even notice if she should happen to slip a condom on him halfway through. By the time Bridget gets through with them, they can do every one of these things. How do I help, you ask? Well, the girls have to practice on someone, and the school can't just grab guys off the street. 6
Hard Lessons by Reed Manning
Bridget screens the male assistants carefully, checks references, all that shit. She saw my special niche right off the bat. I'm one of those guys with, to put it mildly, an overactive prostate gland. I produce buckets of cum. I once jacked off into a measuring cup, after I'd saved my wad for a couple of days, just to see how much there was. I filled it to the threeounce mark. I'm also one of those guys who can get it up again in twenty minutes after the first orgasm, and in thirty minutes after the second, rain or shine. Jealous? Well, it's not all roses. With loads like those in my crotch, I can't help but shoot off quickly. For me, a long fuck is six minutes. My sex life was the pits until I hired on at Bridget's. But now I'm a crucial part of the Aphrodite Finishing School final exam. Each of the students has certain goals they have to meet in order to graduate. One is making a man come three times in an hour with her mouth. Now, this might not be a fair test with some men. But Bridget's not unreasonable. She lets the girls have me. As long as I haven't had too much fun on the side, and as long as the gals have absorbed their lessons, they have no difficulty earning a passing grade. The timer showed that we'd reached the twenty minute mark. Rebecca's tongue descended to the base of my scrotum. Warm wetness coated my balls. She licked her way upward. 7
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My withered dick pulsed and stirred to life. She captured the drop of leftover jism seeping from it and rubbed it in a small circle over the tip. The slick, gentle sensation hardened me still more. My shaft was long and straight as it disappeared once more into Rebecca's throat. Until that day, I couldn't have described just what Rebecca had that made her cocksucking so superior. Plenty of the others had tongues as smooth and soft. Many had teeth as even and pearly—she could have bit my pecker off and made it feel good. I guessed it had to be the way she always could sense just what kind of cocksucking to use at what time. Maybe some guys like it the same way every time. My prick isn't like that. The first time, with that tremendous load inside, I'd wanted it firm and steady, and that's how she'd done me. But this time, right on cue, Rebecca just held my rod in one place and sucked it tenderly, like a baby at a tit. She played with her nipples as she worked. Her tan little buds swelled until they were as hard as my boner. She slid both hands away and down to her crotch. She'd hardly touched herself before she shuddered. She caught the button of her clit between her fingers and cranked herself to an effortless climax. She brought her hands up slick with pussy juice. She smeared the goo all over the bottom half of my shaft and stroked, using just the fingertips. God, she was some kind of psychic. I rang the little bell on the nightstand. Gertie, one of Bridget's female assistants, entered the room to serve as witness to the second coming. 8
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I exploded in Rebecca's mouth. She drank down a load that, in any other guy, would have been a torrent, but for me was merely average. And then, perceiving that she'd better stop before she made me too numb to get it up again on schedule, she slipped away, licking her lips. Gertie initialed a spot on the exam sheet and left the room. Rebecca beamed up at me and suddenly leaned forward to kiss me. “You've got the sweetest cum I've ever tasted,” she said. That's when I knew what she had. It was something beyond technique. Something personal. She was only the world's best cocksucker when she was sucking me. I looked into her eyes, and I knew we were on the same wavelength. As my cock flopped onto my thigh, limp as banana peel, she gave it a kiss, said, “I'll see this big guy in half an hour,” and left for a break. Shit. This was a fine fucking fix. After years of stupendous blow jobs, it had finally happened. I'd never find better. No matter how many women sucked my cock from now on, or how good they were, they'd never measure up to Rebecca. And here she was, graduating and leaving my life. I had to do something about that. **** By the time Rebecca sashayed back in, five minutes before the timer was due to sound off, I was ready with Plan A. Bridget and a couple of students joined us. Rebecca lowered her tongue to my limp dick. One of the new arrivals raised one of her exquisite, call-girl eyebrows as if to say, “She'll never get you hard again so soon.” 9
Hard Lessons by Reed Manning
For a few moments, it seemed she might be right. My worm flopped back and forth in my pubic hair, knocked this way and that by Rebecca's warm tongue. No life. Rebecca frowned. She looked up at me as if I were doing it on purpose. Which I was. “Four minutes,” Bridget announced. I continued to concentrate, and my dick stayed down. Rebecca abruptly scooted around and straddled me in a sixty-nine position. Caught by surprise, I opened my mouth to say something and found a pussy pressed down on top of it. God, she was sweet. My tongue involuntarily plowed along her slit, from perineum to the unfolding petals of her clitoris. I'd never tasted Rebecca's cunt before. I'd been missing something. Before I could get my wits back, her mouth descended. My pecker, inspired by the excellence of Rebecca's twat, had risen to the occasion. The firm, blunt head nudged the back of Rebecca's throat. Oh, well. So I was hard. But if I stayed focussed, I was sure I could keep a lid on my wad until after the timer went off. “Three minutes,” Bridget said. I decided to put all my attention into cunt-licking, and ignore all the wonderful things Rebecca was doing to my meat. I shifted my position until my mouth centered on Rebecca's button. I licked in small, clockwise circles, gently pushing the folds of her clit with the edge of my tongue. 10
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She moaned. Hot drool trickled down my tool and over my balls. My cock strained, hard as ivory, against her palate, but I pretended I wasn't interested. Her pale, sweaky-clean asshole perched not two inches in front of my eyes, quivering in time to the strokes I was lathering on her twat. Even her round, athletic buns shook as if I'd taken all resistance out of them. This was one turned-on lady. “Two minutes.” Rebecca came. It claimed her so thoroughly she stopped sucking my cock and arched upward, frozen in ecstasy. Her fierce exhalations washed over my pole and made me ache for the return of her hot mouth. A surge of pussy juice flowed into my mouth. Damn, I hadn't counted on her having so much fun. It inspired my own arousal way beyond my plans. But I had to hold on. I gritted my teeth as Rebecca went down on me again. “One minute.” Bridget sounded worried. I can hold out, I told myself, even as Rebecca deepthroated me. Oh, God, I can hold out. I tried focussing on eating Rebecca out, but at the thirty-second mark, I had to stop. The tingles in my cock could have driven an electric generator. Rebecca played her trump card. She came again. Just like that. Another gush of pussy cream flowed over my tongue. The scent of orgasm poured into my nostrils. It was irresistible. And then she did it again. And then again. 11
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My wad soared up my shaft and into her throat. She raised off and the second plume splattered her in the face. Visible proof to the observers that she'd gotten me off. The timer bell rang. Rebecca engulfed me again, collecting the remaining spurts and swallowing deeply. She climbed off me, laughing. I groaned with pleasure, too satisfied for the moment to be concerned that Plan A had failed. “You've passed,” Bridget told Rebecca. She nodded happily, wiped the cum from her cheek and ate that, too. **** That night Bridget wore an accusing stare as she climbed into bed with me. But she waited until she'd sucked me to rigidity before she voiced her suspicions. “You were trying not to come,” she said. “When?” I asked innocently. “Today, with Rebecca. I could tell. You were trying to hold back.” I coughed. “Why would I do that, babe?” She squeezed my balls just a little harder than necessary for foreplay. “Maybe to keep her here a little longer. Get a few more blow jobs from her before she graduates and returns to New York.” “Well, even if you're right, it didn't work, did it?” “Lucky for you,” she said. “You wouldn't want to endanger our little arrangement, would you?”
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Bridget and I had had an after-hours thing going for a couple of years now. She didn't care how many women had me on the job, but off-duty, she wanted an exclusive. “Where are you going to get better than this?” she asked as she straddled me. Bending deeply at the knees, she inserted my hard-on into her well-primed ass and started humping. I moaned. There were good reasons why Bridget was headmistress of the Aphrodite Finishing School, and not the least of them was her ability to fuck. Her cunt was equal to or a trace better than the best. And no one could approach the perfection of her backdoor entrance. The silken, slick walls of her tunnel rode up and down the length of my rod. Bridget licked her fingers and lowered them to her clit. She folded her labia to the side and caressed her button. Her full, ripe breasts waved over me, eager for my hands. As I stroked them, the nipples hardened, swelled, and darkened. When the time arrived, we came together. She milked me with the well-toned muscles of her derrière, her gasps synchronized to the surges welling up from my balls. It was like coming into folds of velvet. Bridget was right. I couldn't do without her. Who could give up a couple of holes like hers? My lovely headmistress rolled off and we spent the next couple of minutes kissing. Soon she excused herself. While I lay on the bed alone, I couldn't resist reaching into my wallet and pulling out the scrap of paper I'd hidden there. 13
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On it was a phone number with a Reno prefix. Rebecca's number. She wasn't going back to New York. Some friends of hers were helping her establish new clientele in Nevada. On my days off, all I had to do was spend an hour cruising up the highway and I'd be with her. Plan B. Her idea. She didn't want to stop seeing me anymore than I wanted to stop seeing her. Why settle for the best pussy and ass in the world when I could have the best mouth, too? I grinned and tucked the phone number back in my wallet.
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