I'll take a option 2 and a 3 with a clean up as the side

“Sounds good”, you respond and groan from her tongue expertly flicking along your dickhead.

“Which one?”, the therapist-turned-cocksucker answers you a little startled.

“All of it. In that order too, so better get that dick real sloppy”, you reply, getting bolder each second. Dr.Arbus, or rather Wendy, takes your cock out of her mouth and transitions to jacking you off next to her face.

“If you really want to destroy my ass Mr.Wendell, I’d better stop blowing you now”, she responds like a true professional. “Your cock is rather average, so to really ‘destroy my ass’ you better go in rather dry.”

Ouch, that hurts and it must be visible on your face. She doesn’t need a doctorate in psychology, to see that neither her answer nor the way she delivered it did your mood any good. And coincidentally she *does* have a doctorate in psychology, so this doesn’t evade her notice.

Wendy closes her mouth, mauls it a little to collect saliva and then drools it all over your dick.

“Scratch that, you probably look right through me. Don’t cha? This fat fucker would really rip me apart, so let me slobber you some more before going anywhere near my little asshole. Ok?”, she puts her lips at your cockhead, slurps up as much spit as she can, basically inhaling it, and then breaths the spit down on you cock again.

“You wish! March your fat ass over to the desk and let’s get the show started”, you get back into it again.

Wendy pouts, convincingly, stands up and kicks away the slacks at her feet. Her underwear was functional, but the ass beneath is far beyond “functional”. Her panties are gone and her butt is freed, so now you gawk at it while she gets going. When she walks over to her work desk, her rump shakes enticingly and you follow hypnotized by it.

She reaches her table and with a sudden move puts her upper body down and her hands on the plate. The motion sends a shake through her ass-meat and like a magnet you snap forward towards it, your hands each find a warm and smooth cheek.

“Please be careful! I don’t do anal, this will really hurt-“, she baits you with success.

With only her own spit for lube, you put your cock head between her cheeks and at her waiting asshole. You shove the tip of dick and the first inches that follow into her in one forceful push. That’s as far as you get, before you seem to hit a roadblock. The idea that your big enough to bottom out inside her with not even half your length gets you even harder than you are already and you smack her ass for good measure.

THWACK

“That’s all you can take? Pathetic”, you tell her triumphantly.

“OHH GOD! You’re stretching me sooo hard right now”, she looks over her shoulder and ends the sentence by biting her lip.

“You’re damn right I did”, you pull back a little and start thrusting back and forth the little room you had taken up in her ass.

What you don’t notice is the therapists puzzled look, followed by her rolling her eyes. She coughs to gain your attention and starts speaking again.

“Good thing you don’t go harder on my ass, aaarg, I couldn’t stand some even deeper dicking”, she looks deep into your eyes searching for something and finding new resolve.

“Yeah, you wish! All the haughty bitches ever want is some tender lovin’, fuck that! I’ll go even deeper!”, you increase your pace and with each concessive push dive deeper into her slowly relenting ass.

Dr. Wendy Arbus, renowned psychiatrist *and* yoga enthusiast, relaxes her inner muscles and releases the artificial tight end she had created. Of course you don’t know that. For you, each thrust is your sheer cocksmanship punching its way into her bowels.

She is incredibly tight and warm, her prior lubrication perfectly strikes the balance, enough that you fluently slip in and back out, but not so much that you’d miss the texture of her gripping canal.

You could spend hours doi-

“Dr.Arbus?”, the intercom on the table starts buzzing.

“Uuuh, just ignore that. Just keep pounding my poor little asshole”, Wendy turns around again and motions you to keep going. She doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You pick up your thrusting again when the damn machine buzzes again.

“Dr. Arbus? Your husband is on the other line, should I put him through or are you still busy?”