Over a desk Stories

We'd been seeing a couples therapist for six months, ninety pounds an appointment. Thirty minutes in she told me; admitted her truth. We were talking about fantasies. She took her glasses off, looking me in the eye. "My deepest fantasy. You walk around the desk, shove me face-down. Spit on your cock, and ram it straight into my dripping cunt—pounding deep and hard until I’m dripping down my thighs, begging for every thick...