Red Confession: Psychologist’s Savage Oral Therapy in Paris

Montparnasse psychologist’s office. Plush armchair. Heart hammers. I spill it all—wife’s betrayal, one year of fucking another man. Distant eyes. No more sex. Rage boils. Anne-Laure listens. Blonde goddess. Thirty-five. Angel face. Chignon. Curves lethal. White blouse strains over proud tits. Slit skirt hugs round ass. Black stockings. Twelve-inch heels. Glasses scream naughty secretary. I snap. ‘Suck me off. Double the fee if you make me cum.’ Her face flames crimson. Silence stretches. Eyes lock. World tilts. She rises. Fingers undo pearl buttons. Blouse parts. Flat belly. Lace bra cups swollen breasts. Gooseflesh erupts on my skin. Pulse races. Cock throbs in pants. She crouches at my waist. Belt unbuckles slow. Zipper rasps. Pants yanked to knees. I lift hips. Boxer slides down. Shaft springs free. Rock-hard. Painful ache. Her hands seize my balls. Squeezes hard. Brutal grip. Lips hover over purple glans. Then engulfs. Hot wet mouth. Tongue swirls. Suction pulls soul out. Eyes mock me from above. I shut mine. Surrender. Waves crash. Sweat beads. Heart thunders. Balls tighten. She sucks like queen. Minutes blur. Explosion hits. Cum floods her throat. Body convulses. Best orgasm ever. She milks every drop. Cleans slow. Pulls up boxers. Pants rise. I stop her. ‘150 more. Let me return it.’ Eyes meet. Her nod silent. I stand. Mirror shows us. Her nipples strain lace, bullet-hard. I unhook bra. Skirt zips down. Tanga peels. Dim-up stockings gleam. Ass perfect. Kisses pepper cheeks. Tongue traces crack. Fingers probe slit. Wet heat floods. Musky scent intoxicates. Lead her to desk. Hands grip hips. Hoist her up. Thighs part. Kneel between. Blonde triangle trimmed. Nose dives in. Aroma overwhelms. Tongue flicks clit. Lips suck. Fingers stroke inner thighs. Nails dig my neck. She fights moans. I devour. Lick folds. Suck pearl. Piano fingers caress. She breaks. Cry rips out. Juices squirt. Face drenched. Head crushed to pussy. Tremors fade. I pull back. Victory pulses. Skin burns. Then—crack. Knee slams chin. World spins. Four irons on polished floor. Jaw throbs. Reeling up. Another strike. Heel volleys balls. Agony explodes. Breath gone. Curl fetal. Balls crushed. No scream escapes. She descends. Naked ass flashes. Sits regal. Chemisier open. Tits swollen. Eyes cold triumph. Kleenex tossed. Wipe cum-tears. Nausea churns. Dignity shreds. Wallet out. 300 euros cash. Cheque. Jacket grabbed. Door looms. Her voice cuts: ‘Rethink seduction, Monsieur. Some women hate crude propositions.’ Door shuts. Legs wobble down hall. Balls ache fire. Chin bruises. Face sticky. Cock twitches memory. Heart still races. Skin fever-hot. Lived it. Devoured. Dangerous peak. Unique scar. Crave more.