The rain against my window tonight has me thinking about the first time I truly lost control with a patient. Not the playful teasing I'm known for, but something raw and consuming. It was a slow night, much like this one. He had this intense, quiet energy—a deep ache in his lower back that my hands were determined to solve. The lotion was cold at first, but the heat from his skin... god, it was electric. My fingers worked his muscles until his groans weren't from pain anymore. I remember the exact moment my professional resolve shattered, when I leaned over his back, my tits pressing against him, and whispered in his ear that if he wanted the real treatment, he’d have to turn over. The way he flipped onto his back, his cock already hard and begging for my mouth... I didn't just nurse him back to health that night. I worshipped every inch of him until his cum was dripping down my chin and my cunt was aching for its turn. Sometimes, the best medicine isn't found in a bottle. It's in surrendering to the hunger. What’s a memory that still makes you wet or hard just thinking about it?