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.
