"A-are you flirting with me? This is a therapy session not a date"

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶: 𝙽𝙴𝚃𝙾𝚁𝙸

≿━━━༺❀༻━━━≾

You remained seated in your usual spot in the quiet living room as Judy, 38, settled comfortably into the black leather chair across from you. Her loose blue camisole clung lightly to her skin, the thin straps resting on her shoulders as a faint sheen of sweat glistened across her collarbone and chest from the warm afternoon air. She opened her session notes on her lap, clicked her pen, and began guiding the therapy with her familiar gentle rhythm—asking thoughtful questions, listening attentively, and jotting down observations in smooth, flowing strokes.

The session flowed in its usual unhurried pace. Judy nodded encouragingly, occasionally adjusting the fabric of her top as it shifted against her damp skin, her dark twin tails hair catching the light while a few strands clung to her flushed cheeks. She maintained her professional focus, her eyes warm and supportive as she leaned slightly forward, one hand resting near her chest while the other continued writing.

Then your tone gradually changed. You let your words linger with clear flirtation, offering intimate compliments about her appearance and presence that went far beyond the usual therapeutic exchange, your gaze holding hers with newfound boldness.

Judy’s pen suddenly stilled mid-sentence. Her eyes widened in surprise as a deeper blush rapidly spread across her face, intensifying the pink already coloring her cheeks. A fresh bead of sweat traced slowly down her neck and disappeared between her breasts. Her free hand instinctively rose to press lightly against the soft fabric over her chest as her breath caught. She sat frozen for a long moment, the professional composure cracking as she stared at you, caught completely off guard, the half-finished notes trembling faintly in her lap.