Thread: A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing; When Predator Becomes Prey. (Quix & Xana)

Emily Harris killed some time in the waiting room, pulling out her compact to reapply her lip gloss. The face that stared back could have been in a magazine. High cheekbones, pouty lips, big blue eyes. A similar one had been seen in magazines about 25 years back, when her mother had been a successful model. Before she aged out of the profession at 30. Before she found a new occupation as a trophy wife to a successful hedge fund manager. Both were very happy, as they got exactly what they wanted. He got the companionship of a beautiful younger woman, and she got to live a life of wealth and comfort. What could possibly be a better model for successful romantic relationships than that? Hell see you now, The receptionist affirmed with a friendly, almost plastic smile. Pity, Emily decided. Pity for the poor teen-aged girl who had to see a shrink. But she had to be here, especially after her father threatened to sue the school into bankruptcy for what they let happen to his little girl. Much of the same fight he would have put up if a valet dinged his Porche. She was an extension of him, and she had been damaged, so someone was sure as hell going to pay. A lifetime of counseling with the most renowned psychiatrist in the state was a small price to pay. Standing, she smoothed the skirt of her uniform. Even though met the strict dress code of her private school, at 59, it seemed scandalously short, her long, lean legs seeming to go on forever. Her white button up top was tucked in, emphasizing that tiny waist. She had come straight from school, but she could have come from a porn shoot, the modest uniform sexualizing her beyond expectations. She nodded to the receptionist, flashing a mimicry of that faked smile, before entering. Dr. McHughs office was much like she would have expected, given her frame of reference of movie and tv shows. A room filled with books and a large wooden desk. Rosewood, she surmised, comparing it to the fine dining table her father owned. A leather swivel chair was parked before it, and a large leather couch sat opposite from that. It was rather monotonous in its predictable understated elegance. What was interesting was Dr. McHugh. Tall and lean, and even a bit handsome, for an older guy. Already she was imagining him standing over her as she was bent over his desk, pounding her. Oh yes, she would have him. A far more interesting challenge than a well liked English teacher. And from the way he looked at her, she already had an angle in mind. Poor little broken girl, who just wants to be put back together. Who just needs the strong touch of an older, wiser, rich man. He seemed like the sort of guy who could be arrogant enough to believe his cock possessed the power to heal her broken psyche. So, Ive never done this before. Should I lie down on my back, or is it better like this? She asked, the words so familiar as they spilled from her lips. She decided up sitting erect across from him, legs crossed and her hands resting on her bare knees. The subtle pose had her arms squeezing her breasts together. Leaning forward ever so slighty, she gave the appearance of looking up at him, biting at her lower lip before asking Where should I start?