It's time

Inside the sterile therapy room, Jessica plopped onto the couch, which instantly transformed into a velvet fainting couch piled with silk pillows. The guard collapsed at her feet, nuzzling her sneaker. Virginia edged behind her desk, knuckles white on her chair. "We... we can’t proceed without Dave," she stammered, fumbling for her panic button. Jessica giggled, plucking a floating champagne flute from the air. "Silly! Dave’s been busy serenading coochie at Starbucks but he should be here any moment."

Jessica sipped champagne, utterly serene. "See, Doc?" she chirped, gesturing with her flute. "Dave’s just fashionably late!" As if summoned, the office window exploded inward. Not with glass, but with a shower of glittering pink sparks. Dave hurtled through the opening, horizontal and painfully erect. He slammed onto the therapy couch beside Jessica with a grunt, his flight abruptly ending. The velvet cushions absorbed the impact, then reshaped themselves to cradle him—and his prominent bulge. Dave groaned, dazed. The security guard at Jessica’s feet whimpered in envy.

Dr. Virginia screamed, scrambling backward until her bookshelf pressed against her spine. "What in God’s name—?!" Dave blinked up at the ceiling tiles, his mind reeling. One moment, he’d been outside; the next, he was here, half-naked beside his ex-girlfriend-turned-sex-goddess. Jessica patted his thigh. "There he is! Told you he wouldn’t miss our session." She leaned close, her breath warm against his ear. "Davey, honey, you forgot your pants." Dave’s humiliation curdled into rage. He lurched upright, fists clenched. "Jessica, you psychotic bi—!" His tirade died as his erection twitched violently. Unbidden, his hips bucked against the cushions. A high-pitched moan escaped him. Jessica giggled. "Aw, still happy to see me!"

Dave’s fury dissolved into frantic panic as his hands flew to his cock to frantically stroke himself. "No! Stop!" he choked, fingers moving against his will. "Jessica, make it—ahhh!" His back arched as pleasure ripped through him. Virginia watched, horrified, as Dave’s eyes rolled back, his body convulsing on the couch. Jessica sighed dramatically. "Doc, see? Classic avoidance. Can’t talk feelings, so he… *erupts*." Dave gasped, semen spraying his shirt. The security guard at Jessica’s feet whimpered, reaching for his own zipper. Virginia pressed her panic button—again, and again—but it only chirped, *"Naughty Naughty~!"* in a cheerful electronic voice.