I had an appointment with him today. Those lips are to die for - I love fantasizing about them being wrapped around my sausage.
I only see him about once every 6 months, so he can write my Xanax script. As we were talking, I periodically glanced at his man-tits, imagining his puffy areolas under his starched shirt. I'd love to put my mouth on those things.
He looks a bit like Chris Meloni, only stockier.
Why drain your sausage when I can drain your wallet?
I'm sure he enjoyed being ogled by a mental case in a cramped private office.
Anyone who combines the first-person adjectival pronoun denoting possession with the word "sausage" not only deserves to be in therapy, but deserves a portable "Taser/Electroconvulsive treatment until he pisses himself, on principle.
OP, DSL's are my kryptonite. Whenever a guy has those luscious lips all I can do is think of his sucking on his face and him putting his lips on my dick!
Sadly, I won't see him again for another six months.