Some Hard Truths

Casey Calvert just wanted to run her usual session, but Charles Dera had other ideas, dragging his wife Katrina Colt in with him. He swore one visit would straighten her out. Floria clocked how quiet and obedient Connie looked, folded hands, eyes low, and that alone got her attention. She warned Dave she wasn’t a marriage counselor, but he wouldn’t shut up, so she agreed to listen—just once. The second the talk turned to Connie’s sudden interest in women, Dave’s face twisted. He barked about “fixing” her before it went too far. Floria didn’t play along. Instead she told Connie to own it, to say the words out loud: she wanted to kiss another woman and maybe more. Connie’s voice shook, then steadied. Dave sat back, red-faced and silent. Floria slipped off her chair, knelt in front of Connie, and slid warm hands up those small, bare breasts, pinching the stiff nipples until Connie moaned. Dave’s jaw dropped as the therapist’s tongue traced circles, wet and slow, over skin no man had tasted that way. Connie opened her legs without being asked. Floria’s fingers slipped inside, knuckles glistening, working her open while Dave watched every stroke. When Connie came, breath catching in tight gasps, Floria looked over her shoulder at Dave. “Your turn, big man,” she said. “Either get in here and show us what you’ve got or watch your wife find someone who will.” Dave’s pride cracked. He stood, dropped his pants, and stepped between the two women, cock already hard. Floria guided Connie’s small hand around him, then her own mouth, and the three of them moved together—sweat, spit, and soft curses filling the room—until Dave understood exactly how little control he had left.