Doctor's Orders: The Eva & Manuel Exam

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Manuel Ferrara, Eva Karera Pic(s)

The sterile, fluorescent-lit examination room felt more like a stage, charged with an unspoken tension as Eva Karera, the patient, nervously adjusted her paper gown. Dr. Manuel Ferrara entered with a calm, professional authority, his demeanor a stark contrast to the intimate energy that began to simmer just beneath the surface. His initial questions were routine, but his intense gaze held hers, making each query feel like a deeply personal probe. Eva’s answers were soft, breathy, as his gloved hands began a methodical, clinical check of her pulse and reflexes. A subtle shift occurred when his touch lingered on her shoulder, the thin paper barrier doing nothing to mute the heat of his skin. The pretense of a standard check-up completely dissolved as he leaned in, his lips finding hers in a sudden, hungry kiss that was anything but medicinal. Her arms wrapped around his white coat, pulling him closer, the stethoscope dangling uselessly between them as their passion ignited. Soon, the examination table became their altar, the crinkling paper sheet a soundtrack to their fervent, undressing embrace. Their bodies moved together in a raw, primal rhythm, a perfect fusion of carnal need and practiced, exquisite technique. In that moment, the only diagnosis was an overwhelming, mutual, and utterly consuming desire.