Lesbian Psychotherapists #02

She climbed onto him slow, still clothed from the waist up, nylons torn open at the crotch like an afterthought. His cock pushed up inside her without warning. She took every inch in one hard drop, breath catching sharp. He didn’t wait. Hands locked on her hips. He drove up to meet each roll of her pelvis, steady rhythm like punishment. Sweat already ran down her thighs. She pressed harder, grinding, like she needed the burn more than the release. Outside, April wind smacked against the glass, rattling the frame. Inside, it was just skin slapping skin, her teeth sunk into her own lip to keep from saying his name too loud.