"I've wanted to do this since session three," he says, kissing down my neck. "When you described your fantasy. About being bent over my desk."
"Do it," I beg. "Please. f**k me on your desk like you wanted to."
He groans, flipping me over so I'm face-down on the cool wood. His hands pull my hips back, positioning me.
"You're sure?" he asks.
"I've never been more sure of anything."
I feel him line up, feel the head of his c**k pressing against me.
Then he pushes inside in one hard thrust.
We both cry out.
He doesn't go slow. Doesn't ease into it. Just f***s me hard and fast against his desk, his hands gripping my hips so tight it's going to leave bruises.
"f**k," he groans. "I missed this. Missed you. Missed being inside you."
"I missed you too," I gasp. "So much. Every day. I coul
