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Shane and his wife Angela stroll into therapist Penny's office for their usual session, but it's not all marital bliss. They might be there together, sure, but everyone's got their solo time on the couch—Shane gets the nod first, vanishing behind the door while Angela cools her heels right outside, flipping through some magazine like she's got all day. The second that door clicks shut, boom—Penny and Shane drop the act. These two have been sneaking around for weeks, and today? They're not holding back. Penny shoves him against the desk, her hands yanking at his belt like she's starving for it. Shane grabs her ass, pulling her close, and they dive right in, clothes hitting the floor in a frantic heap. He pins her down, thrusting hard and deep, her moans barely muffled as she claws at his back. They're going at it like rabbits in heat, the desk creaking under them, papers scattering everywhere. But they lose track—Shane lets out a low grunt a tad too loud, and Angela perks up outside, knocking lightly. 'Everything okay in there?' she calls. Penny freezes, then covers with a quick, 'Just working through some tension!' before Shane smirks and flips her over for round two, pounding away even rougher now. Another slip: the headboard—wait, desk—thumps against the wall, and Angela presses her ear to the door, brow furrowed. Suspicion's brewing, but they ride the edge, bodies slick and slamming together, chasing that dirty high without a care for the wife just feet away.
Shane and his wife Angela stroll into therapist Penny's office for their usual session, but it's not all marital bliss. They might be there together, sure, but everyone's got their solo time on the couch—Shane gets the nod first, vanishing behind the door while Angela cools her heels right outside, flipping through some magazine like she's got all day. The second that door clicks shut, boom—Penny and Shane drop the act. These two have been sneaking around for weeks, and today? They're not holding back. Penny shoves him against the desk, her hands yanking at his belt like she's starving for it. Shane grabs her ass, pulling her close, and they dive right in, clothes hitting the floor in a frantic heap. He pins her down, thrusting hard and deep, her moans barely muffled as she claws at his back. They're going at it like rabbits in heat, the desk creaking under them, papers scattering everywhere. But they lose track—Shane lets out a low grunt a tad too loud, and Angela perks up outside, knocking lightly. 'Everything okay in there?' she calls. Penny freezes, then covers with a quick, 'Just working through some tension!' before Shane smirks and flips her over for round two, pounding away even rougher now. Another slip: the headboard—wait, desk—thumps against the wall, and Angela presses her ear to the door, brow furrowed. Suspicion's brewing, but they ride the edge, bodies slick and slamming together, chasing that dirty high without a care for the wife just feet away.
