Blurred Lines

Rico stepped into Lauren's living room. They weren't here to talk therapy notes anymore. The conversation turned fast: the lines between doctor and patient were gone. She'd thought about it, lined up the risks-her license, her rep, her name on the line if anyone found out. Rico didn't blink. Therapy had sharpened his instincts, not dulled them. He trusted what he wanted. He said he'd switch to a new shrink if that made her feel safer. The idea hit her sweet. Tension snapped. Clothes dropped. She pulled him onto the couch, legs wrapped tight, mouth locked on his neck, and they fucked slow and greedy, hips grinding hard, hands roaming every bare inch, both lost in the slick heat and dirty little honesty they finally let hit the air.