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He forced himself to focus on the check-up, but Shasha's body scent grew more intense, the milky fragrance mixed with the unique aphrodisiac aura of a succubus, like invisible tentacles wrapping around his sanity. His fingers moved involuntarily toward her areolas, pressing gently, attempting to confirm the lactation situation, but this movement made his heart tremble. The pale areolas were soft and sensitive; touching them was like teasing himself, making his penis hard enough to hurt.
Shasha seemed to notice his abnormality; her voice became even softer and more charming: "But if you don't have children yet, then your sex life isn't frequent, is it? You can't be completely uninterested, right?" Her sudden words were straightforward and bold, as if nakedly tearing through his defensive line. The doctor was violently stunned, cold sweat seeping from his forehead, his fingers frozen on her breast, his mind a blank. He had practiced medicine for many years and never had a patient ask so straightforwardly about his private life, let alone such an alluring woman.
He cleared his throat, attempting to conceal the panic in his heart: "This is the price of studying medicine, no choice, there have to be sacrifices." His voice trembled, as if bracing his last shred of sanity. But even if his brain was bracing, his body's subconscious movements moved uncontrollably. His hands had been stroking and pressing on Shasha's breasts; gradually, the doctor became distracted, and his hands unknowingly changed his checking posture, gradually starting to knead. Feeling the increased force after the doctor changed, Shasha let out a whimper, whispering: "Doctor... kneading my breasts with such force, and pinching my nipples, is that part of the check-up too?" Her voice was sticky and tempting, as if she were deliberately igniting his desire.
The doctor snapped to his senses, realizing that unwittingly, his technique had changed from checking to kneading, and he was even pinching her sensitive nipple! A current spread from his fingertips through his whole body, his penis hardened until it almost tore his trousers, and his sanity was wobbling under the impact of desire. He withdrew his hand hurriedly, his voice hoarse: "That... this is a normal check-up, I apologize for any offense. Your breast condition is good; let's stop the check-up here for now." He got up, called for the nurse in a panic, and hurried out of the ward, his back carrying a hint of misery.
Shasha watched his back, a charming smile curling on the corners of her lips, and she tidied her clothes, thinking to herself: Serious in words, but the body is honest.
That evening, Shasha lay flat on the bed, breathing lightly as if she had fallen into a deep sleep. The surrounding nurses had also finished their shifts and left. The doctor had to perform one last task before going off duty: checking Shasha's sleep condition. He knocked on the door, pushed it open, and paused upon seeing Shasha's sleeping appearance. His gaze fell on her face, her long dark hair scattered on the pillow, her red lips parted slightly, her chest rising and falling with her breathing, a button of her hospital gown undone, revealing her fair collarbone and the edge of her cleavage.
In terms of procedure, the doctor should wake the patient before checking, to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings. But his mind flashed at this moment with the touch from the day's check-up, the temptation of Shasha's body, and the milk that came out as soon as it was pressed—all of it made his heart race. His Adam's apple bobbed, the reaction at his crotch was completely uncontrollable, and a sense of fluke rose in his heart: she's sleeping so soundly, it wouldn't be good for her spirit if she were woken up directly. Since it's a check-up anyway, checking quietly shouldn't be a problem, right?
Holding such a justification, he tiptoed to the bedside, took a deep breath, and attempted to keep himself calm. His fingers touched the button of Shasha's hospital gown, undoing one gently, his movements as cautious as if he were afraid of disturbing her sweet dream. The clothing slipped down, revealing her vacuum-sealed delicate body, her full breasts gleaming with soft light in the moonlight, presenting themselves in their entirety and in close proximity before the doctor's eyes.
The doctor's breathing became rapid, fine beads of sweat seeping from his forehead, struggling in his heart: Just checking, just checking! He put on gloves, his fingers touching Shasha's breasts; the soft touch made his heart accelerate. At first, his movements were still restrained, only pressing lightly to check the hardness of the breasts and the lactation situation. However, how could Shasha's succubus physique be resisted by an ordinary human? The milky fragrance drilled into his nostrils like an aphrodisiac, teasing his nerves. His fingertips subconsciously slowed the tempo, as if loath to leave this touch. Even because the gloves isolated the touch, the doctor violated the regulations and took off the gloves, touching her directly.
His gaze gradually fell on her nipples; the pale areolas gleaming with wet luster, as if inviting him to taste. He gulped, the scene from the day flashing in his mind, the sweetness of that drop of milk causing him to almost lose his sanity. He tried to squeeze tentatively; white milk seeped out slowly, dripping from the nipple onto the sheet, leaving a pure white milk stain. His breathing became heavy, his fingers trembling as if drawn by some invisible power.
"Just... confirming the lactation situation..." he whispered, as if to convince himself. His movements became bolder, his palms changing from pressing to kneading, squeezing out more milk; the white liquid slid down Shasha's chest, staining the sheet. His heart was almost ready to explode, his penis hardened to the point of pain, and his trousers could no longer hide the hunger of that penis.