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Summary
“I think I want to fuck you on that table, doctor.” Yibo murmured, his brain wanting to shut down and stay awake all at the same time, leaving behind little in the way of resources to filter what came out of his mouth.
“What?” he heard Xiao Zhan’s voice as if from far away. And heard his own deep gravelly voice, whispering out all the filth that gave it some much needed fuel to get through his suffocating days and nights.
“Yes, right there, against that table. I want to fuck you hard and that thing is solid. Sturdy. Would keep you nice and tight between it and me as I fuck in and out of your wet, snug…”
His brain went black then and the words disappeared and the images took over. And all of them were Xiao Zhan’s… the eyes, the lips, the mole, fuck.
Or where, idol Yibo is in therapy for insomnia, but has a bad case of Dr.Xiao-Zhanitis.
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Now translated into Portuguese: https://www.wattpad.com/story/230598445-love-in-the-afternoon-tradução
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Thank you londonpal for the prompt.