My therapy is sex

India Summer walks into therapy like she owns the damn couch. She loves her kind of therapy. The one that leaves marks. Marco starts playing doctor until she swings her legs up and suddenly the power flips. Her perfect feet are in charge now. Marco loses it fast, body betraying him as he buries his face between her soles, licking stripes along the arch, tongue tracing the soft pad beneath each toe. India stretches back and grins, one foot grinding slowly against his hard-on, toes squeezing the head of his cock while the other presses down on his chest. No talking now. Just the wet sounds of her footjob, skin slapping skin, and the tiny laughs slipping out of her when he sucks harder, desperate. She keeps the rhythm tight, teasing him with the heel, toes flicking the underside, slick with spit and precome. Marco moans like he forgot what words were for. She laughs again. Therapy works if you do it right.