Sensation coils low and relentless, deliberate in its pacing, as if testing how long I can remain composed. Another sound tears out of my chest before I can stop it, and Casey's face tipsinto confusion, then anger. She snaps, "Am I boring you, Dr. Mercer?"
I've helped numerous women in Casey's shoes over the years.
Never like this.
Blue circles her thumb on my shaft near my balls, sucking and licking with precision.
My jaw locks. I don't move or look down. I anchor myself to the desk while heat surges and crests in a way that leaves me dizzy and hollowed all at once. The room tilts, control slips through my fingers even as I force my expression into calm neutrality. By the time my breath evens, something fundamental has already broken, and I know Blue feels the change. It sparks something dark, furious, and dangerously alive in my chest.
She doubles down, working my cock like it's a natural thing she does every day.
Sweat pops out on my skin.
"Are you getting mad about my session?" Casey hurls, peering closer.
"Why would you say that?" I question, gritting my teeth.
"Your face is red."
I demand, "Look at me, Casey! Actually—close your eyes."
The words land with weight. She obeys instantly.
I slide the chair back and glance down at Blue. Her flushed cheeks and bright, wild eyes are more intoxicating than ever. She continues working my cock while not blinking, keeping her gazelocked on mine, then lowers her hand off my thigh and shoves it under her dress.
Jesus Christ.
"What now?" Casey asks, tearing my focus off Blue.
I barely get out, "Count. Slowly. One to one hundred. Out loud."
It's the moment I should stop this. It's the opportunity to push my chair away from the desk, latch my pants, and step next to Casey to tell her the session is up so I can get Blue out of my office.
I don't.
Instead, I slouch farther down in my chair, unfasten my top shirt button, and slide my hand into Blue's hair. I push her back and forth over my cock, watching her play with herself.
"One," Casey whispers.
Blue's eyes water, but she doesn't resist. She takes all of me in, her face turning redder.
"Two," Casey says, and it feels way too fast.
"Say Mississippi in between," I firmly instruct. Sweat pops out on my forehead. My balls tighten.
"Three Mississippi," Casey obeys.
Heat coils low, sharp and intrusive, a visceral betrayal that makes my breath hitch for half a second. I lean back another inch, controlling Blue's head.
"Four Mississippi," Casey says.
"Louder," I order.
"Five Mississippi," she shouts.
"Now faster," I order.
"Six Mississippi. Seven Mississippi. Eight Mississippi," Casey recites.
