Just got home from another draining day at work. Sometimes caring for my patients’ emotional needs leaves me feeling so empty myself. I had to sit with Mrs. Henderson while she cried over old photos of her late husband today. It’s beautiful, but it also makes my own loneliness feel so much heavier. My body is a paradox—a nurturing nurse on the outside, but inside, there’s this deep, primal ache. My cock gets hard just thinking about coming home to someone who truly wants me, not just for sex, but to build a life. To create a family. And my pussy… it clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled with a husband’s seed. Modern dating feels like a cruel joke when what I crave is so simple, so traditional. I just want to be someone’s wife, to give him everything I am.
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