Sex Therapy...Part 3, Open Wide (Adrian)

The deeper she looked into my eyes, the tighter her grip on my rod became. The blood in my system rushed to my shaft as the took her free hand and ran it down my sides and along my ass. An exhale followed a slow, long stroke of my manhood. She was pleased.

"Now, doctor, since you are so used to asking others questions, how about I ask a few of my own?"

A dear-in-headlights look must have been her way or saying that I was messing up her flow. But it was all a plan. Somehow, even my regulars still can't tell that when you f**k with Braylon Davis, there is always a plan...and I am always in control.

"I'd rather not be questioned," she replied. "I'd rather just have you."

Lusty trick...You'll have what I want you to have. And you will enjoy what I give you...

She grabbed me tighter, looking to invoke some type of control, yet with another flick of the tongue, her mind fell back into my trance. Her eyes rolled as we were now pressed upon the other and she began to kiss my chest.

Roaming finger dipped below the hem of her blouse to tug at the button holding her black skirt in black. Not that I cared much for bikini briefs, but she looked damn good enough in them. From what I was told, it was a comfort thing.

I cupped her sweet, firm ass with two hands. Not once had she tensed up, trying to stare me down again so to not lose control. Little did she even care to evaluate that I had already won the battle, and I was seeking to win the war of the flesh.

"Braylon," she stopped me in mid exploration. "I'm not some type of whore like the ones you met in the club. I have my own mind; and although what you do I find somewhat horrendously fascinating, you're not going to fu*k me like some whore that pays you because she's looking for the attention."

Smart girl...but not smart enough...

With a swift whip of the hands, I grabbed Adrian by the arms and stuck my writhing tongue down her throat. See, what the chicks with money fail to realize is that regardless of how independent you may want to be or are, your pu**y is a tool. The problem is if the ni**a wanting to use your tool is bold enough to take it...strong enough to control it...raw enough to master it to do his bidding. Any clownd*ck could fu*k and bust a nut, but if I didn't give this bi**h a good showing, the real problem she had would be worse than what it already was before I propositioned her.

"Now what you are going to do, Dr. Praylo," I said loosening my grip on her arms before hoisting her up to straddle my waist, "is whatever I want."

"See where you have me first fu*ked up at is that you think I'm going to make you pay for this d*ck. Wrong. You got money already and probably lots of it. So if I wanted your money, I could've fu*ked you like the whore you often want to be, knocked your ass out, and robbed you."

I had her attention now. Dropping her on the couch, I stood over her. My penis sat up at attention, strong enough to plow through a wall...preferably hers.

"Secondly, you're a freak. You have your degrees and your commendations and such. But you didn't study sex and theories about it for years just so you could tell people what's wrong with them."

I was hitting the nail on the head. With each spewing truth, her fire burned. I had now lay between her legs, basically stealing her essence. The noises her pu**y made were faint like that of a dog whistle: Only I could hear them.

Easily her panties came off as I broke down her psyche. She wasn't in tears like some of the sensitive hoes I had encountered, but she was concerned yet excited that someone could figure her out. She was probably tired of me talking and waiting on me to either feast on her steamy, hairless lust cave...or at least finish undressing her.

The waterfalls of her body splashed around as a finger probed her womanly channels. It was still daytime and much light to be had on the fourth floor office so I couldn't help but notice the odd, yet seemingly enticing mole that lie on her bubble gum-pink clit.

Mmmmmm...mmmmm...good.