Right down his own throat

Dr. Valentine could have predicted his ejaculation without looking, and like clockwork she put her hand on his head and **** it down, laughing inside at how his pleasure at the blowjob was overriding how uncomfortable the position must have been. She looked into his eyes as his shaft pulsed under her fingers, and his throat swallowed his own load, and noted that his face betrayed only orgasmic bliss. She made sure that his orgasm was finished before slowly pulling him straight again, still softly rubbing his softening rod. Even through his shortened breaths, he hadn't quite realized what she had done.

His mind slowly began to work again, and he realized what had happened. "What the fuck?!" He looked at her, and was shocked to see how close she was to him, practically hugging him, he could feel her chest brushing against him, and moved a little closer to her, hoping she wouldn't notice.

"Your arms don't feel too tired, right?" she asked, not paying attention to his objection.

"No, but I'm not going to suck my own dick!"

"Don't you mean you're not going to suck your own dick again?" she asked, smirking. "You shouldn't worry so much about this sort of thing. There's nothing wrong with pleasuring yourself, whether you use your hand or your mouth. It's just masturbation. Besides, it feels better with a mouth than with a hand, doesn't it?"

"Yeah..." he admitted. He'd never had a blowjob before, but it was a thousand times better than just a hand. The feel of a warm mouth closing around his cock... he moved his tongue around his mouth, feeling the shape of it, thinking about how it felt on his cock.

"You're hard again, John." Dr. Valentine said. He looked down and saw that it was true. "Do you want to do that again?"