In Doctor Márquez's office, Felipe faces his jealousy while Elena and the therapist challenge his limits. A kiss, a command, and a dirty lesson change everything between them.
The office of Doctor Alejandro Márquez smelled of freshly cleaned leather and that sweet, musky scent that Elena's perfume left behind every time she sat on the black leather armchair. The blinds were half-open, letting in a golden light that slid over the dark wood furniture and the framed diplomas on the wall. The air conditioning hummed in a low tone, almost imperceptible, but enough to keep the room cool despite the heat that was beginning to build between the three bodies occupying the room.
Felipe settled into the chair across from the desk, crossing his legs with a tension that betrayed the knots in his stomach. His fingers drummed on the armrest of the seat while he observed, not the doctor, but his wife. Elena was sitting on the divan, her legs crossed in a deliberately slow manner, as if she knew her husband's eyes couldn't help but follow the movement of her thighs under the tight burgundy skirt. The dress, cinched at her waist and with a neckline that left little to the imagination, highlighted every curve of her mature body—the body that Felipe knew so well and that, nevertheless, at that moment seemed to belong to someone else. Her lips, painted a dark red, curled into an almost imperceptible smile when she noticed her husband's gaze fixed on her.
"Doctor Márquez," Felipe began, clearing his throat, "I appreciate you seeing us today. As I mentioned over the phone, Elena and I have been working on our relationship, but there are… aspects that I still find hard to handle."
The doctor, a man of robust build with large hands that now rested on the mahogany desk, bowed his head in a sign of attention. His white shirt, with sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealed the dark hair snaking across his tanned skin. His eyes, an intense green, shifted from Felipe to Elena with a calmness that contrasted with the former's nervousness.
"I understand, Felipe. Communication is key in these cases." His voice was deep, almost hypnotic, and every word seemed loaded with a double meaning that only Elena seemed to catch. While he spoke, one of his feet, clad in black Italian leather shoes, slid under the divan until it brushed her ankle. Elena didn't move, but her fingers twitched slightly over the edge of the cushion.
Felipe didn't see it. Or perhaps he preferred not to see it.
"I know Elena is an incredible woman," Felipe continued, swallowing hard. "Intelligent, beautiful, passionate… But sometimes the idea that others might desire her as much as I do—or more—overwhelms me."
Elena let out a soft laugh, almost a whisper, as she adjusted her neckline with a gesture that made the dress cling even tighter to her generous breasts.
"Felipe, darling," she said, her voice honeyed and laden with that irony that always drove him crazy, "isn't that exactly what excites you? Knowing that others look at me, that they desire me… but that at the end of the day, I am yours."
Doctor Márquez sketched a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Instead of responding, he stood up from the desk with a calculated slowness. Felipe followed him with his gaze, confused, until the man positioned himself behind Elena, resting his hands on the armrests of the divan on either side of her. His body, imposing, loomed over the woman like a shadow, and Felipe could see how the therapist's fingers landed on his wife's shoulders, massaging them with a familiarity that made him clench his fists.
"And what do you think, Elena?" the doctor asked, his hot breath brushing her earlobe. "Do you like that your husband feels jealous?"
She tilted her head to one side, exposing her neck in a gesture of submission that made Felipe's stomach churn. Her lips parted in a sigh as the doctor's fingers slid downward, tracing the neckline of her dress before stopping right at the edge of her breasts.
"It depends," she replied, her voice sounding huskier than usual. "If that jealousy leads him to be more… creative with me, then yes."
The doctor laughed, a deep sound that resonated in Felipe's chest like a blow. Then, without warning, his hands moved down decisively, grabbing the edges of Elena's skirt and lifting them with a sharp movement. The dress bunched at her waist, revealing black string panties, almost transparent, that barely covered the dark, well-groomed hair between her thighs.
"Doctor!" Felipe stood up abruptly, the chair screeching against the wooden floor, but a look from Elena stopped him in his tracks. Her eyes, dark and shining, challenged him to intervene. Or to stay.
"Relax, Felipe," the doctor said, without looking away from Elena's crotch as his fingers traced the contour of her panties. "This is part of the therapy. Sometimes, the body expresses what words cannot."
Felipe took a deep breath, feeling sweat bead on his forehead. He couldn't look away. Doctor Márquez didn't wait for permission. With a quick movement, he hooked his fingers into the elastic of the panties and dragged them down, forcing Elena to lift her hips to make it easier. The fabric slid down her legs, revealing her sex, already wet, the lips swollen and glistening under the dim light.
"Shit," Felipe whispered, but it wasn't a complaint. It was a prayer.
Elena leaned back against the divan, opening her legs with a deliberate slowness, as if she knew the exact effect it would have on her husband. The doctor wasted no time. With a grunt of approval, he unbuckled his trouser belt and freed his member, thick and already fully erect, veins marked under the dark skin. Felipe held his breath as the man positioned himself between his wife's legs, guiding the tip of his cock toward her entrance with one hand while the other tangled in Elena's hair, pulling it with enough force that she arched her neck back with a moan.
"Don't just stand there, Felipe," the doctor said, his voice rasping as he began to sink into her. "If you want to overcome your jealousy, you must face it. Come. Look closely."
Felipe obeyed, as if his feet moved of their own accord. He approached the divan, stopping just a few steps from where the doctor began to thrust into his wife with slow but deep movements. Every time their hips collided with Elena's, the wet sound of their bodies joining filled the office, mixing with her gasps and the therapist's guttural grunts.
"That's it," the doctor murmured, without stopping his movement. "Watch how your woman enjoys a cock that isn't yours. Look how she tightens around me, how her cunt sucks me every time I sink into her."
Felipe couldn't turn his eyes away. Elena's hands gripped the arms of the divan, her nails digging into the leather as the doctor increased the pace. Her breasts, free from her bra, swayed with every thrust, nipples hard as stones under the fabric of the dress. The doctor freed one of his hands from Elena's hair and brought it to her mouth, inserting two fingers between her painted lips.
"Suck," he ordered, and she obeyed instantly, wrapping her tongue around his fingers while moaning against them.
Felipe felt his own arousal grow, painful, inside his pants. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. His wife, his Elena, being fucked mercilessly by another man, and he… he liked it. God, how he liked it.
"Doctor," he managed to say, his voice cracking, "how… how do I overcome this? The jealousy is killing me."
The doctor smiled, his green eyes glinting with a malice that made Felipe's stomach shrink.
"Jealousy isn't overcome, Felipe. It's controlled." His hips slammed against Elena's with more force, making her scream, her body shaking under him. "And the only way to control it is by accepting that your woman is desirable. That others want her. That others will have her."
His words were accompanied by a wet sound, that of his cock burying itself to the hilt in Elena's soaked cunt, she was now moaning without shame, her thighs trembling.
"But you," the doctor continued, panting as his thrusts became more erratic, "you are the one who decides who touches her. You are the one who protects her. Not from the men who desire her, but from those who don't deserve her."
Felipe nodded, hypnotized. His eyes fell on the hand the doctor had free, now marking Elena's thigh with his fingers, as if he were claiming her. But it wasn't so. It was a lesson. A dirty, perverse lesson, but a lesson nonetheless.
"I understand," Felipe whispered, reaching his hand out toward his wife. She took it instantly, her fingers intertwining with his while the doctor continued to fuck her without mercy.
"Good boy," the doctor said, his voice choked with pleasure. "Now kiss her. Kiss your wife while another man fills her with semen."
Felipe didn't think twice. He leaned in, capturing Elena's lips in a hungry kiss, tasting the salty flavor of her tears mixed with the sweetness of her gloss. She responded with the same intensity, her tongue fighting against his while the doctor grunted behind, his thrusts becoming more desperate.
"Fuck, you're so tight!" the therapist roared, his hands gripping Elena's hips with such force that Felipe was sure it would leave bruises. "You're going to make me come like a fucking teenager!"
Elena arched, breaking the kiss with a choked cry as the doctor sank into her one last time, his body tense as he emptied his load inside her. Felipe could see the exact moment when the semen began to seep between her lips, dripping onto the leather divan while the doctor kept moving, squeezing every last drop of pleasure from his orgasm.
When he finally pulled out, his cock glistened with the fluids of both, and Elena lay on the divan, gasping, her legs still open and her cunt dripping with the doctor's semen. Felipe couldn't help himself. He knelt in front of her, his mouth seeking his wife's crotch, licking greedily at the thick liquid sliding down her thighs.
"That's it," the doctor murmured, watching the scene with satisfaction while he adjusted his clothes. "Learn to enjoy what she gives you, even when it doesn't come directly from you."
Elena stroked Felipe's hair, her fingers trembling.
"Good boy," she whispered, her voice broken by pleasure. "My good boy."