The 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
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