I sat there in my office, the door locked behind Melinda after our last session, my mind replaying that husky promise of 'more than words.' It had been two days, and she'd booked the follow-up faster than any patient I'd had. My c**k had been half-hard since she walked in today, her tight blouse doing nothing to hide those full t**s straining against the fabric. She settled into the chair across from my desk, crossing her legs, that pencil skirt riding up just enough to tease the tops of her stockings. f**k, she was a vision—curves begging to be grabbed, lips painted red like they were made for wrapping around my shaft.
"Good to see you again, Melinda," I said, leaning back, my voice calm but my thoughts filthy. In my head, I was already stripping her, imagining those t**s bouncing as she
