Jane’s lunch that day was a banana and a container of Yoplait strawberry yogurt. She ate it at her desk in her cubicle of the big pharma company where she worked in marketing and PR for its blockbuster dick drug. It was interesting work, certainly lucrative and very important to the company, although she rarely told others — especially men — what she worked on. A divorcee since she was thirty, who had been through several unhappy dating relationships, Jane had enough of the suggestive replies over cocktails, thank you very much.

The World Sexology Conference — yes, that was actually its name — was coming up and Jane would be part of her company’s heavy presence there. So she was being cc’d on all kinds of sexuality studies and journal submissions that would be presented. Jane peeled the banana and nibbled at its tip as she opened her email to peruse the latest. This one was a study of another company’s drug meant to help with “rapid ejaculation,” the industry’s new preferred term for premature ejaculation.

Jane had become accustomed to seeing pictures of dicks and cum, always in a very clinical setting, as a matter of her job, but this one was something else. It was accompanied by video, not just still photos. In it, the test subjects were interviewed about their sexual experiences. Nearly all of them described a heavy consumption of pornography, the single men in particular. Some of them also talked about visiting escorts or strip clubs.

The guys in their twenties and thirties masturbated twice a day. The guys in their forties slowed their roll a little. The married guys confessed that jerking off in lieu of sex with their partners had damaged their confidence, if not also their performance, in bed. Jane found all of this titillating. The men were of various shapes and sizes, seated in a bathrobe with their face up and out of view.

The test subjects, there were two-hundred of them, had all been taking the rapid-ejaculation treatment for two weeks. A control group was asked to continue their masturbation and sex habits in that span. The experimental group was asked to abstain from all sexual contact.

Then, and this made Jane’s jaw drop, they were filmed. Yes, filmed. Gaining an erection and sustaining that erection through orgasm and ejaculation. Most of the men masturbated; a few even brought sexual partners (two were same sex!) and fucked them on an examination table as a time-stamp rolled on the screen, counting off how long they were going.

Oh yes, there was audio. That was the best part. She put headphones on, so as not to disturb the rest of the office floor. The video itself was very clinical, the audio was what was pornographic. Men panting and groaning into their girlfriends’ ears; the grunting cacophony of a gang-bang porn movie playing on a screen off-camera. One guy literally unfolded a copy of Penthouse and talked dirty to the pictures while he jacked off. Jane could barely believe what she was watching. The video kept going and going, each test subject. She was sopping wet as she scrolled through it all.

These men weren’t pornstars. Some were fit, some were out of shape, most were hairy. Some had big dicks, some had small dicks, but all of it was very, very arousing to watch and hear. She enjoyed watching the men’s individual masturbation techniques. She watched one guy’s ass move back and forth as he humped a pillow while leafing through a porn magazine in front of him. The couples were even better, moaning together, to the rhythmic creaking of the examination bed as they fucked. The girls panted and cried out the longer their men went, almost not believing how long they were getting fucked.

And yet the study had real scientific merit, because all of these guys were going longer than thirty minutes with continual stimulation, both control group and experimental. The twenty-year-olds who beat off all day were lasting as long as the forty-year-olds pounding their wives. Even better, their orgasms were tremendous.

For a few of the couples, the male test subject came inside his wife or girlfriend’s pussy, but many of them pulled out and jacked off all over her stomach or her tits. One guy — one of the younger ones, of course — even came on his girl’s face, and she licked and sucked his cock clean while she spread her pussy for the camera. Well, that's what porn does for a relationship, Jane wryly thought. But it was still incredibly hot.

The masturbation subjects, of course, showed everything, and their loads were awesome. Everyone seemed to cum like Peter Fucking North (yes, Jane was familiar with all the major stars), at least five thick spurts, if not more. All of the test subjects later reported great satisfaction and pleasure with their orgasms. The estimated volume, in milliliters, was put on the screen next to the time stamp when the men finished cumming.

Jane was getting light-headed, she was so turned on. She could not believe this was a legitimate part of her job. She also desperately wanted to have sex with test subject No. 122A, a skinny college kid who jacked off to a Playboy centerfold and came like a volcano. Jane became aware that she was not so much eating her banana as she was tonguing and sucking it, and she had a dab of yogurt on the side of her cheek, like cum.

Flushed, composing herself, smoothing her professional business skirt, and standing up, Jane marched off for the restroom. Not the common one, the single restroom by the executive office, which had a door that could lock. She went inside, unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, rolled her pantyhose down to her knees, and sat on the closed toilet. Then she masturbated, strumming her wet, distended pussy lips, thinking about all of the cocks, and the semen, and the fucking, and the moaning that she had just seen, and seeing how long she could last.