Chapter 3: Ruined by the Sezx Doctor (3)
1564 Words
Dr Vale turned to Keon.
“On your knees. Face your wife’s pussy.”
Keon dropped fast.
His mouth hovered inches from her cunt—wet, pulsing, swollen with denial. Her juices dripped down her inner thighs.
“You want to taste?” Dr. Vale asked.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Tell her.”
Keon looked up, shame in his eyes. “I want to taste your p***y, baby. I want to feel you c*m on my tongue. Please let me try again.”
Sariah’s voice was breathless. “Then do it right.”
He buried his face between her thighs.
This time, he licked like he had something to prove—long, rough strokes, tongue deep, nose buried in her c**t.
Sariah screamed.
Dr. Vale stood behind him, watching like a god.
“Good. Don’t stop until she soaks your f*****g chin.”
Keon didn’t stop. Not once. His tongue circled her c**t, faster, harder, two fingers sliding inside to match the rhythm she loved.
Sariah bucked against the restraints.
“I’m gonna c*m—f**k—I’m”
And then she broke.
Her scream shattered the silence.
Her p***y gushed, soaking Keon’s face, her thighs shaking, breath gone.
Dr. Vale smiled.
“Now that… was a f*****g orgasm.”
Keon fell back, soaked, panting.
Sariah hung from the straps, trembling, c*m dripping down her legs.
Dr. Vale walked between them.
“Next session,” she said, “you switch. He gets tied down. And you ride until he cries.”
Sariah looked up, wrecked and smiling.
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t make me wait long.”
************************************************************************
The morning light bled through the blinds like a secret trying to spill.
Sariah stood by the kitchen island, robe loose, n*****s still sore from last night. She hadn’t slept—not really. Her body ached in all the right places. Her p***y still throbbed, sensitive, twitching every time she shifted. She could feel her husband’s c*m dried along her thighs, even after the shower.
But it wasn’t the orgasm that haunted her.
It was the look in his eyes. The shame. The hunger.
And that note.
“If you can’t make her c*m… I will.”
She didn’t write it. Didn’t even know who did. But the way Keon looked at her when he read it? Like he might f**k her or leave her forever.
She poured herself coffee, hands trembling.
Then came his voice—low, warm, but edged in something tight.
“What did that message mean, Sariah?”
She turned.
Keon stood in the doorway in a fitted tee and gray sweats that barely contained the weight of his morning c**k. Hair messy. Eyes still swollen from sleep.
He stepped closer.
“That card,” he said, voice tight. “The one from the s*x club. The note inside. ‘If you can’t make her c*m… I will.’”
She swallowed. “I told you—I don’t know. Someone handed it to me.”
“Who?”
She shook her head. “A woman at the gym. We’d spoken once. I vented. She said they help couples. I thought it was like… therapy.”
Keon stared at her. His jaw flexed. His voice dropped.
“She knew I was failing. She knew I couldn’t f**k you right. And she wanted to take you from me.”
Sariah stepped closer, but not too close.
“I didn’t tell her anything. I didn’t know what that note said until you opened it.”
Keon’s chest rose. Then fell.
Then he stepped forward—until she was backed against the fridge.
His voice was thick. Possessive. Dangerous. Deep.
“She’s not going to take you, Sariah. No one is.”
His palm landed against the fridge beside her head.
“I’m going to win you back. With this c**k. With this mouth. With everything you forgot I had.”
Her breath caught.
“I didn’t forget,” she whispered. “You just stopped showing it.”
His hand slid down her side.
“I’m showing it now.”
And then, without warning, she turned to reach for the milk carton on the shelf.
He opened the fridge at the same time. His arm bumped hers. Her elbow knocked the bottle.
It exploded.
White, cold milk poured down her chest, soaking her robe, clinging to her lace bra, dripping over her cleavage.
“s**t,” she gasped, stepping back.
Milk ran between her breasts. The robe was plastered to her t**s. Her n*****s stood hard, dark points begging to be sucked.
Keon just stood there, staring.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
He stepped forward and yanked the robe wide open.
“Keon—” she gasped.
His mouth was already on her tit.
His lips wrapped around her n****e, sucking hard, tongue swirling over the sensitive tip until she cried out and slapped a hand over her mouth.
“f**k—baby—the kids—upstairs”
“I don’t give a f**k,” he growled into her chest.
He sucked harder, pulling the entire curve of her milk-soaked breast into his mouth like he was starving. His hand slipped down between her thighs, dragging up the hem of her robe.
She was bare underneath.
His fingers found her slit—wet, creamy, open.
“You’re not even wearing panties,” he muttered. “You wanted this.”
“I didn’t—f**k—I was just”
“Don’t lie. You’re soaking.”
He rubbed her c**t fast, rough, until her knees buckled and she had to brace herself against the dining table.
She turned, hips pressing into the edge, t**s out, robe open, one leg kicked back.
“Please,” she whispered. “Make me c*m before they come downstairs.”
He dropped to his knees and spread her ass apart, tongue dragging through the mess between her thighs.
“Suck this p***y,” she begged. “Make it sloppy.”
He dove in.
His tongue slid over her creamy folds, his face buried deep in the heat of her dripping cunt. He groaned into her like he wanted to drown. His tongue circled her c**t, flicking hard, sucking just enough to make her grind against his face.
“You taste like sin,” he said. “Sweet and filthy.”
Her hands gripped the table edge. Her body shook.
“I’m close—don’t stop—please, don’t”
His fingers slid inside her, fast and deep, curling up to hit her spot with ruthless precision. The sloppy sound of her p***y sucking his fingers filled the kitchen.
Muffled moans. Heavy breath. Wet, wet, wet.
The stairs creaked upstairs.
Sariah’s eyes widened. “Oh my God—stop—they’ll hear”
“Let them,” Keon growled.
He stood, pushed her chest down flat against the table, and shoved his thick c**k between her legs—bare. No time for protection. Just skin and need.
He slid inside.
One hard stroke.
She cried out—loud, gasping—her p***y clenching around him instantly.
“Oh, f**k—yes!”
He slammed into her again. And again.
Her t**s slapped against the table. Milk still coated her skin. His hands dug into her hips.
“Is this what you needed?” he growled. “A hard f**k? A man to ruin your p***y before breakfast?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “f**k me—harder—don’t stop”
The table creaked.
His c**k drilled into her wetness, pounding faster, deeper, her slick soaking his balls with every thrust. Her body writhed, t**s bouncing, mouth full of muffled cries.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Whose p***y is this?”
“Yours,” she gasped. “It’s yours—it’s all yours”
“You’re not leaving me.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Then c*m on this dick.”
He reached around and rubbed her c**t, fingers fast, c**k deep.
She shattered.
Her orgasm slammed into her like a tidal wave—her body shook, her p***y clenched hard around him, milking him, creaming on his c**k.
Keon grunted behind her, thrust twice more
And then exploded inside her with a hot, thick pulse of c*m.
They collapsed together.
Panting.
Shaking.
Sticky.
Ruined.
The stairs creaked again.
They scrambled—robe tied, pants zipped, table wiped just enough.
Their kids never came down.
But the table would remember.
They sat side by side now, quiet, breathing slowly as the kitchen returned to stillness.
Sariah’s legs were trembling. Keon’s c**k still twitched in his pants. The table was damp with milk and slick. Her robe clung to her skin like a secret only he could read.
No words. Just afterglow and adrenaline.
Then her phone buzzed.
She reached for it slowly, fingers still sticky from gripping the table.
A text. From a number labeled Dr. Vale.
Session Confirmed.
Payment due by 6 p.m.
A guest will be joining you tomorrow night.
Instructions: No touching each other till then. No orgasm without permission. Hands. Off
Sariah’s breath caught in her throat.
Keon leaned over and read the message too.
She turned to him.
Eyes wide. Lips parted. p***y already pulsing again.
“What does she mean… a guest?”
Keon didn’t answer.
But his c**k started to harden
- Writer
