Anya's eyes flicked to Nathalie, her expression a mix of professional concern and something far more conflicted. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers tapping restlessly against the clipboard before she finally spoke.

"Mrs. Nathalie," she said, her voice carefully controlled, though her cheeks were still flushed, "could you use that lubricant... to help your husband? Just use your hand."

Nathalie's breath hitched, her fingers trembling as she reached for the bottle of lubricant. She avoided my gaze, her face burning with embarrassment as she squeezed a generous amount onto her palm.

The cool liquid dripped onto my cock, and the moment her fingers made contact, I let out a choked groan—"Aaah... Doctor, I—" My voice broke, my hips jerking involuntarily as Nathalie's hand wrapped around my cock, her touch hesitant but firm.

The lubricant made her strokes slick, her fingers gliding over my veiny length, the sensation almost unbearable.

I could feel her trembling, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as she worked her hand up and down, her thumb brushing over the sensitive head. The sound of her skin against mine filled the room, wet and obscene, and I couldn't help but let out another groan, my cock throbbing in her grip.

The examination room felt like it was shrinking, the sterile white walls closing in as the air grew thick with tension and something far more primal. Nathalie's cheeks were scarlet, her eyes squeezed shut as if she couldn't bear to watch her own hand moving over my cock, but her fingers didn't falter.

"D-Doctor, it's—it's getting bigger," she whispered, her voice trembling, her fingers struggling to fully encircle my thick, veiny girth. The admission seemed to shatter something inside her, her strokes growing bolder, her touch more confident as she worked me. The slick sound of the lubricant filled the room, obscene and wet, mixing with the ragged sounds of our breathing.

Anya's breath hitched, her eyes locked onto the scene before her, her professional composure slipping with every passing second. "Does it normally get this big?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers tightening around the clipboard she clutched like a lifeline.

I let out a choked, pained groan, my body arching slightly off the table as if I were struggling to endure the pleasure. "D-Doctor, I—I t-told you," I stammered, my voice cracking with faux embarrassment, my face flushed.

"W-when I see a b-beautiful woman, it r-reacts like this... b-but now—" My voice broke as Nathalie's hand slid up and down my length, her grip tightening just enough to make my cock twitch violently.

"N-now there are two of you," I whimpered, my hips jerking involuntarily. "I c-can't—it h-hurts so much—I c-can't control it anymore! I—I'm going to go crazy!" My cock pulsed in Nathalie's grip, the veins standing out starkly, the head swollen and glistening with pre-cum.

Nathalie's breath came in short, sharp gasps, her fingers trembling as she struggled to maintain her grip. "D-Dexter, you have to c-calm down," she stammered, her voice thick with conflict, though her hand didn't slow.

If anything, her strokes grew more deliberate, her thumb brushing over the sensitive underside of my cock, sending another jolt through me. "Y-you're s-so big—I c-can't even—" Her voice broke, her cheeks burning as she finally opened her eyes, only to be met with the sight of my throbbing length, so close to her face.

Anya's eyes darkened, her gaze flickering between Nathalie's flushed face and my cock, which seemed to grow even harder under Nathalie's touch. "Mrs. Nathalie," Anya said, her voice strained, "if it's causing him pain, you need to—"

"N-no, Doctor!" I interrupted, my voice high-pitched with faux desperation, my body writhing on the table. "P-please, don't stop her! It h-hurts more when she stops! I—I need—" My voice cracked again, my cock jerking in Nathalie's grip as if to emphasize my plea. "I need something to make it stop!" I whimpered, my face burning with embarrassment as I pretended to be on the verge of tears.

Nathalie's hand faltered for a second, her eyes widening as she looked at me, her expression a mix of concern and something far more shameful—arousal. "D-Doctor, what should I do?" she asked, her voice trembling, her fingers still wrapped around my cock, her thumb absentmindedly swirling over the pre-cum beading at the tip.

Anya's breath was shallow, her own cheeks flushed as she watched Nathalie's hand move. "Mrs. Nathalie, you need to—" She hesitated, her professional mask slipping further. "You need to keep going," she finally said, her voice barely more than a breathy command. "But be gentle."

Nathalie bit her lip, her hand resuming its motion, her strokes slow and careful, though her fingers trembled with the effort. "Y-you're so hot, Dexter," she whispered, her voice thick with shame, her eyes darting to Anya as if seeking approval—or forgiveness. "I—I don't know if I can—"

"P-please, Nathalie," I begged, my voice breaking, my cock throbbing painfully in her grip. "I-it hurts so much—" I let out a choked sob, my hips bucking slightly, my cock slapping against Nathalie's palm with a wet sound. "I need you to help me!"

Anya's fingers tightened around the clipboard, her knuckles turning white. "Mrs. Nathalie," she said, her voice strained, "you're doing fine. Just... just keep going." Her eyes were locked onto the scene, her breath coming faster, her own body betraying the professional detachment she was trying so hard to maintain.

Nathalie's hand moved faster, her strokes growing more confident as she worked me, the sound of her skin against mine filling the room. "Y-you're so hard, Dexter," she whispered, her voice trembling, her cheeks burning.

"I—I can feel you pulsing in my hand—" Her words seemed to spur her on, her grip tightening just enough to make my cock jerk violently.

The room was thick with tension, my performance reaching its peak. "Aaaah—! D-Doctor, it's too much!" I cried out, my body arching dramatically off the table, my cock twitching violently in Nathalie's grip.

"I c-can't take it—I'm going to—" My voice cracked into a desperate whimper, my face buried in my hands as if I were too overwhelmed to even look at them. But inside, I was grinning. I could go on as long as I wanted... but why not give Anya a surprise she'd never forget?

With a sudden, deliberate motion, I lifted my hips, pulling my cock back to the base in Nathalie's grip. My muscles tensed, my breath hitching as I felt the pressure build to an unbearable peak.

"N-NO! I CAN'T HOLD IT—!" I groaned, my voice breaking into a raw, guttural moan as the first thick, hot spurt of cum erupted from my cock with a force that made my entire body jerk.

"AHHHH—!" The sound tore from my throat, primal and unrestrained, as the first jet of my cum shot out like a white-hot rope, hitting Anya square in the face.

She let out a shocked gasp, her eyes flying wide as the thick, sticky stream splattered across her cheek, her forehead, and her lips. "Aaaah—!" she cried out, her hands flying up to her face, but it was too late.

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