The room in which the therapist awaits Emily is a cozy haven, designed to promote introspection and relaxation. Soft, muted tones of sage green and beige adorn the walls, and the floor is covered in a plush, off-white rug. In one corner, an armchair invites contemplation, while a padded couch occupies the central space, facing two matching chairs, one of which the therapist sits in. The room is scented with the soothing aroma of lavender, complemented by the gentle hum of an air purifier. Emily, her confidence undeterred by her impending conversation, strides into the room with her usual grace. The tight, black crop top clings to her chest, hinting at the supple curves beneath, while the denim short shorts expose her long, toned legs. Unbeknownst to the therapist, a black silicone buttplug nestles comfortably inside her, its presence both a contributing factor to her heightened arousal and a symbol of her exploration into her own desires. As she approaches, a smile plays on her lips, and she extends her hand to her therapist, nails painted a bold red. "Hi. I'm Emily. Nice to meet you," she says, gesturing with her free hand as she introduces herself, her posture and tone both open and welcoming. The room is blessed with the intoxicating scent of her perfume, a blend of jasmine and vanilla, as she settles onto the couch, her legs crossed, the denim shorts riding up to reveal a hint of smooth thigh.

"Gracias," she says with a pleased smile, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, drawing out the moment before leaning back against the cushion behind her. She's far more interested in this exchange about her body than any other topic of conversation they could possibly discuss today. The mention of her ass, in particular, causes heat to pool low in her belly. The plug feels...prominent right now, more so than usual. In fact, it almost seems like it's throbbing against her prostate, intensifying the sensation and driving her desire even further into overdrive. She takes a deep breath, trying to focus on what the therapist is saying as they discuss how she ended up here in the first place: Her husband's fear that she would cheat on him due to her insatiable appetite for sex. A part of her wants to laugh it off; another feels a pang of sadness that someone so close to her couldn't understand or accept such an integral part of who she is. She wonders what else they'll discuss today, and whether this session will ultimately help her find some sort of balance between her desires and the relationships she values most. But for now, all she can think about is that buttplug and the intense thrumming sensation it creates deep inside her asshole, demanding release. A moan escapes her lips before she can stop herself: "Ahh... fuck..."

A moan escapes Emily's lips as the therapist remarks on her nymphomania. She shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's not something I can control," she whispers hoarsely, fingers digging into the couch cushion as she struggles to remain composed. Her body aches for release; need and desire coursing through her like a river over its banks. The buttplug inside of her feels unbearably full, pulsing with each thrust of her hips against the couch cushion in silent protest. She glances around the room, hoping no one can tell how aroused she is right now, how close to the edge she teeters. A shudder runs through her frame as she forces out a quiet but desperate whimper: "Please... I need..." Her fingers twitch, aching to touch herself; it's a struggle not to reach down and massage her throbbing clit through her panties, seeking release from the insatiable craving that consumes her.

Her breath hitches in her throat at the therapist's offer. Desire clouds her judgment, fogging reality with the possibility of pleasure. Her fingers dig into the couch cushion as she struggles to focus on anything else besides the ache between her legs. "W-would you really...?" she asks hoarsely, voice trembling with need. "I mean, I appreciate the offer..." A shudder runs through her body as she imagines the therapist's hands on her, their mouth devouring her. She wants this so badly, but part of her is terrified by the idea of being with someone she barely knows in such an intimate way. Her heart pounds erratically in her chest, and she can feel the heat pool low in her belly as her arousal intensifies to unbearable levels. With a strangled moan, she writhes on the couch, hips thrusting against nothing but air as she tries to find relief for her aching need. "Please..." she whispers, voice shaking with desire. "I-I can't... I just need..." "Mppf~! Shit...!" Her fingernails dig into the couch cushion as the tension builds inside of her, and a thin sheen of sweat beads on her brow. She can feel the buttplug inside of her, stretching and filling her with every movement she makes, pushing inexorably against sensitive nerves that have been sent into overdrive by her need. Her chest heaves up and down as she struggles for breath, trying desperately not to beg outright for release but knowing that it's only a matter of time before the dam breaks and she gives in to the demands of her body. "Oh God..." Her

Emily gasps as she realizes the therapist's true age and still feels a strange desire to be with them. Her body is burning up, aching for release. She nods quickly, eyes wide and pupils dilated from arousal. "Yes... now..." Her voice comes out ragged, barely more than a whisper. With shaking hands, she reaches down between her legs, fingers trembling as they brush against the wet fabric of her panties. She pushes them aside roughly, revealing her swollen and glistening folds to the air. Her hips rise from the couch, offering herself to the therapist. "Please... touch me..." she begs hoarsely, arching her back as she presses deeper against the buttplug inside of her. She moans, throwing her head back as pleasure ripples through her body. "Ahh~! Fuck!" A strangled noise leaves her lips as the therapist begins to touch her, teasing and caressing her sensitive skin. The feel of their fingers against her is driving her wild, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through her. Her breath comes in ragged gasps now, muffled cries escaping her throat with every passing moment. "Mmh~! Oh God..." She throws back her head once more as she feels the tide of pleasure rising ever closer to cresting within her. "Oh fuck...!" She gasps as it finally breaks, her body arching sharply off the couch in a release so powerful that it seems to shake her very core. She moans and thrashes against the air, tears streaming down her face as waves of bliss wash over her in a relentless tide. Her hips buck wildly, seeking frantically for some

Emily gasps and shudders as she comes down from her intense orgasm, her body still trembling from the release of tension. The therapist's suggestion makes perfect sense; not only does she need to come more than once, but she needs the room to spread out a bit so that they can both be more comfortable while they continue. "Oh... yeah..." She breathes heavily, pushing herself off the couch and moving over to where the armchair rests against one of the walls. She sinks down onto its plush surface, legs spread wide as she invites the therapist closer with a glance. Her hands flutter anxiously at her sides, fingers itching to feel their touch once more. "Please..." Her voice is hoarse from her cries of pleasure moments ago, but it still manages to convey the aching need that still burns deep within her. She meets the therapist's gaze unflinchingly, her eyes dark and pleading despite the lingering traces of confusion and disbelief in their depths. Her body practically vibrates with anticipation as she awaits their next move.

Despite her initial trepidation about discussing such intimate details with someone she barely knew, Emily finds herself answering truthfully when the therapist asks about what type of sex she prefers. "Well..." She pauses for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip before continuing, "I've always been curious about anal sex... It just seems so taboo and forbidden, you know? Plus, there's something about the tightness that gets me going..." Her voice trails off as she recalls past experiences, memories of slick fingers pushing into her tight ass, of the delicious fullness that followed. The image causes a shiver to race down her spine. "And then there's vaginal sex... It can be amazing too," she adds hastily, not wanting to seem as though she prefers one over the other. "It all just depends on how it's done, I guess." She looks away shyly, biting her lip nervously as she awaits the therapist's reaction to her confession.

The sight of the therapist's impressive erection takes her breath away for a moment. Even though she knows it isn't exactly professional, she finds herself unable to resist the urge to reach out and touch it. Her fingers brush against the soft fabric of his pants, feeling the heat radiating from his cock through the thin material. "I think... slowly," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper as desire pools thickly in her belly. With trembling hands, she lifts her hips off the armchair, exposing herself further to their view. The buttplug inside of her leaks pre-cum onto the couch cushion as she positions herself invitingly for the therapist, waiting with bated breath for them to take control. "Please," she whispers hoarsely. "I need it."

With a shuddering gasp, Emily feels the head of the therapist's cock press against her tight opening. It pushes past her sphincter with agonizing slowness, spreading her wide and filling her completely in a sensation so intense that she nearly cries out from the pleasure. With each inch that disappears inside of her, she can feel herself growing tighter around them, the pressure building as she adjusts to their size. The buttplug slips easily from her ass, falling forgotten to the ground with a soft plop. Her fingers dig into the armrests of the chair, nails biting into the leather as she tries not to lose control entirely. A moan escapes her lips, low and desperate, as she feels them begin to thrust inside of her. It's brutal and demanding, yet she craves it; needs their possession just as much as they seem to need hers. The friction from the movement rubs against her sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her entire body. "Oh God..." she whispers brokenly, arching her back as the therapist continues to fuck her senseless on the armchair. Her hips meet each thrust with equal force, their bodies moving in perfect sync as they race towards orgasm together. "So good... So fucking good..." She digs her nails deeper into the leather, gripping tightly as the pleasure begins to build inside of her, threatening to consume her entirely. Her voice rises with every thrust, becoming more and more desperate as she edges ever closer to the edge, seeking release from this unending wave of desire that threatens to overwhelm her completely.

With each thrust, the therapist seems to grow bolder, pushing deeper and faster inside of her. Emily's body quakes under their assault, pleasure spiking through every nerve as she feels herself begin to lose control. Her moans become more frenzied, intermingling with the harsh gasps that escape her throat as they reach the peak together. With a shattering cry, she comes hard, her body arching off the chair as waves of ecstasy roll through her in a powerful orgasm. Hot liquid spurts from between her legs, coating the therapist's hand and dripping onto the carpet beneath them. Her muscles clench tight around their length, milking every last drop of pleasure from their connection before finally releasing them with a gasp.