LOGINThe week dragged like torture. Every lecture on ethics at the university felt aimed directly at me. “Dual relationships are strictly prohibited.” “Any personal contact with clients or their families compromises the therapeutic process.” I nodded along, cheeks burning, while my mind replayed Victor’s thick fingers stretching me in his car, his filthy voice telling me how sweet my pussy juice tasted. By Thursday I was a wreck. Wet and anxious before I even walked into the counseling center. I chose my outfit with dangerous care......, a fitted cream blouse that hugged my breasts, and a slightly shorter black skirt that showed more thigh than professional. I told myself it was just confidence. Deep down, I knew I was dressing for him. Session started at 3 PM sharp. Claire looked drained, her voice sharper than usual as she listed Victor’s failures “He barely touches me. It’s like he’s somewhere else even when he’s inside me.” Victor sat beside her, calm on the surface, but his eyes ke
The following Thursday arrived too quickly. I spent the entire week trying to bury what happened outside the center. I told myself it was a one off. A crude slip from a frustrated husband and nothing more but every time I closed my eyes, Victor’s low, filthy voice echoed in my head: *Wondering if it’s thick enough to stretch that tight pussy you’re hiding under that skirt?* I arrived early for the 3 PM session, heart already beating faster than it should. I chose the chair farthest in the corner, legs crossed tightly, notepad balanced on my lap like a shield. Dr. Ramirez greeted me with her usual professional smile. Claire arrived first, looking more agitated than last week. Victor followed a minute later, his tall frame filling the doorway. His eyes found me instantly. That same slow, knowing smirk curved his lips as he took his seat beside his wife. He didn’t say anything inappropriate during the session. Ofcourse he didn’t but the way his gaze kept drifting to me felt deliberat
My name is Lisa and I was only twenty four. A fresh clinical psychology intern at the downtown counseling center. My role was pretty much simple. Sit quietly in the corner, observe licensed therapists during sessions, take notes, and keep my mouth shut. No direct contact with clients. No personal involvement whatsoever. The ethics rules were drilled into us from day one. Dr. Ramirez’s thursday 3 PM couple was one of the messiest cases on the schedule. The husband, Victor Lang, 32, came in every week with his wife, Claire. Claire did most of the talking . Complaining about feeling unseen, about Victor’s emotional distance, about their dead bedroom. Victor mostly sat there looking exhausted, nodding occasionally, his deep voice low when he finally spoke. I kept my eyes on my notepad, but I noticed everything about Victor. The way his large hands rested on his thighs, veins standing out. The sharp line of his jaw. How his dark eyes sometimes flicked toward me in the corner, lingering
She returned from the bathroom still on unsteady legs, her skirt smoothed down but her blouse still unbuttoned, bra left behind on his desk like a trophy. He was waiting on the wide leather couch in the corner of his office, completely naked now. His cock was already almost fully hard again, resting heavy against his thigh. The sight instantly made her mouth water. “Come here,” he said, voice low and commanding. She walked over slowly, feeling exposed and deliciously dirty under his gaze. When she reached him, he pulled her down onto his lap, straddling him. Her skirt rode up again as her bare, still sensitive dripping pussy pressed against his thickening cock. He kissed her deeply with his both hands roaming over her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples until they were aching. “I want you to ride me this time,” he murmured against her lips. “Slow at first. I want to feel every inch of you fucking me.” She reached between them, stroking his cock until it was fully hard again, t
She was still sprawled on his desk, skirt hanging around her waist, with her blouse half unbuttoned and legs loosely wrapped around his hips. His dick still very much buried deep inside her. His dick twitching with the last pulses of his orgasm, the condom stretched tight and full. He didn’t pull out immediately. Instead, he stayed pressed against her, forehead resting on her shoulder, his hot breath fanning hot over her neck. One of his hands slowly stroked up and down her thigh, almost soothing, while the other braced on the desk beside her head. “Fuck.....," he muttered, voice rough and low. “That was…” “Insane,” she finished for him, a shaky laugh escaping her lips. She could feel her pussy still fluttering around him, the aftershocks from the intense fuckiing making her clench involuntarily. Every little movement sent sparks through her body. He finally lifted his head and looked at her. His eyes were dim, heavy lidded, still hungry. The corner of his mouth curved int
She should have left hours ago but the spreadsheet on her screen still refused to balance, and the idea of waking up early tomorrow just to fix someone else’s mess kept her glued to her chair. The office felt heavy, too quiet, too still. The usual chaos, ringing phones, clicking keyboards and footsteps had all been stripped away leaving only the low hum of the air conditioning and the faint glow of a few remaining lights. “Just five more minutes,” she whispered to herself, her fingers tapping slower now, focus fraying. The overhead lights flickered once, then dimmed automatically across most of the floor. Only her small section and the office across the hall stayed lit. His office. She noticed it when she stood up to stretch her back, rolling her shoulders with a quiet sigh gathering her things to leave. A soft golden light spilled from behind the glass wall. He was still here. Of course he was. He was always the last one out. His sleeves rolled up, tie slightly loosened,
The clinic smelled like antiseptic and money. White walls, soft lighting, the kind of place where rich people paid strangers to grow their babies. Rachel sat in the plush chair beside Alex, legs crossed tight so the damp spot on her thong wouldn’t show. Mia was already on the table in the procedu
Mia moved in the following Saturday with two suitcases and a smile that could cut glass. Rachel helped carry the bags upstairs, noticing how Mia’s hips swayed extra when Alex was watching from the doorway. She wore a thin white sundress with no bra—her nipples dark shadows under the fabric, alrea
The afternoon sun shined through the windows of the living room and warmed the couch where Ethan and Sophia lay tangled together in a sweaty heap. His cum still leaked slowly from her pussy onto his thigh as she rested her head on his chest catching her breath from the last round on the couch. Her
The morning sun filtered through the curtains of the guest room pulling Ethan from a restless sleep. His dick was still half hard from the early morning erection and dreams that had filled the night images of Sophia bent over the kitchen counter with her sundress bunched around her waist while he







