My new therapist

7 a.m. crawled up my ass like it always does. I dragged myself out the door for my first appointment with a brand-new therapist. Short notice, last-minute slot, whatever. All I kept thinking was: please don’t let this be some gray-haired fuck who diagnoses me in six minutes and tells me to journal my feelings.

The clinic was small. Waiting room had maybe twenty chairs, ten a side, cheap carpet, fluorescent hum. I gave the receptionist my name. Sexy little Latina, sitting down so I only got the tits—full, heavy, straining the blouse like they wanted out. I stared long enough that she noticed. Didn’t care. Took my seat with a half-chub already forming.

Two minutes. Door opens. Soft voice calls my name. Not a man.

I stand up and there she is: 5'2", Latina, long black hair, face like she just walked off a college campus, body built to ruin lives. Tight little waist, fat apple ass poured into black leggings, Uggs on her feet like she didn’t give a shit how filthy she was about to get. She looked like the girl I should’ve been fucking instead of paying to talk to.

I walk over, introduce myself, shake her hand. Tiny hand, rings, long nails. Instant mental image of those nails dragging down my shaft while she gags. She leads me to her office, shuts us in, tells me to sit. I do. She drops into the chair right next to me instead of across the room like a real professional.

“I’m twenty-seven,” she says, voice soft. “You’re one of my first clients.”

My cock jumped so hard it tented my pants. She was staring straight at the bulge. Not even pretending. I stared right back at the fat cameltoe between her thighs and didn’t blink.

She smirked, spread her legs wide, and there it was—bare, puffy, already glistening. No panties. Just a soaked little slit winking at me under the leggings she’d pulled aside. The smell hit me immediately: warm cunt and need.

She stood, locked the door, turned around, and peeled her blouse off. Nice heavy tits, brown nipples already hard. I took that as the only permission I needed. Unbuttoned, shoved my pants down, pulled my cock out and started stroking while she watched, eyes hungry. She shoved both hands down her leggings and started fingering herself right there, standing, hips rolling, wet sounds filling the room. I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper.

She walked over. I grabbed her hips, lifted her like she weighed nothing, and dropped that fat little ass straight onto my face. She sat on my mouth like she owned it. I shoved my tongue up her asshole first—hot, tight, filthy—then dragged it down to her dripping cunt and tongue-fucked her while she ground on me, smearing her juices all over my chin and nose. She tasted like pure slut. I ate both holes like I was starving, sucking her clit, spearing her ass, letting her ride my face until her thighs shook.

When she was dripping down my neck she spun around into a sixty-nine, head in my lap, ass back on my face, legs locked around my head. That pretty mouth stretched wide and took my cock to the back of her throat in one go. I grabbed her hair and started face-fucking her—wet, nasty, gagging gluck-gluck sounds while I kept tongue-deep in her asshole. Spit ran down my balls. Her cunt clenched every time she choked. Best fucking therapy I’d ever had.

I manhandled her off, sat her straight down on my cock. She sank all the way in one wet slide, tight as hell, and started bouncing. Those ass cheeks clapped on my thighs loud enough to echo. I let her work it for a minute—watching that tiny body take every inch, her tits bouncing, mouth open—then grabbed her hips and started slamming her down onto me. Brutal, deep strokes. Her eyes rolled back. She came hard, squirting all over my cock and balls, soaking my stomach, making filthy wet slap sounds every time I bottomed out.

I flipped her onto her side on the white leather couch and kept drilling that soaked cunt. She matched every thrust, throwing her ass back, greedy. Another squirt, then another, until the couch was a mess and my mouth was full of her when I leaned down and sucked it straight off her pussy. Swallowed every drop I could get.

“Ass,” I told her.

She scrambled onto all fours, arched that apple bottom up, and looked back at me like a bitch in heat. I spread her cheeks, spit right on her tight little hole, and ate it again—tongue deep, loosening her up while she moaned like a whore. Then I pressed the head of my cock against that puckered ring and pushed. Jesus fuck she was tight. Took real work. I had to spit more, work the head in slow, feel her ass fight me the whole way. Once I was buried she let out this broken little moan and pushed back.

I gripped her hips and fucked her ass like I hated it. Slow deep strokes first, feeling every inch of that hot grip, then harder, faster, until I was pounding her tiny body into the couch and her ass was slapping back against me. For someone so small she took it like she was built for it—moaning, drooling, telling me to ruin her.

I felt the load boiling up and started pumping cum deep in her ass. She gasped out, “Save some for my mouth, you fucking pig.”

Little devil. I pulled out, still spurting, and she spun around, mouth open, tongue out. I stroked the rest of my load straight down her throat—thick ropes. She swallowed every drop like it was dessert, then reached back, scooped the cum leaking out of her freshly fucked ass, and licked her fingers clean while staring me dead in the eye.

We got dressed in the wrecked office—her leggings dark with slick, my shirt sticking to me, the couch ruined. Sweat rolled down her cheek. I asked if next week, same time, worked.

She just nodded, still catching her breath, cunt and ass both leaking my cum into her clothes.