Doctor Cole Connor & Caden Dior Bang Harrison Todd

Harrison Todd’s hands tremble as he sits on the exam table, his heart monitor beeping erratically. Doctor Cole Connor studies the screen, his brow furrowed. Beside him, Caden Dior—the assistant with a reputation for unconventional methods—leans against the wall, smirking. “Anxiety’s off the charts,” Cole mutters. “Standard meds failed. Time for Plan B.”

Caden steps forward, latex gloves snapping as he pulls them on. “Strip,” he orders, nodding to Harrison’s gown. Harrison hesitates, but desperation overrides shame. He sheds the flimsy fabric, his cock half-hard from adrenaline. Caden’s fingers trail up his inner thigh, clinical yet charged. “Relax. This is therapy.”

Cole circles behind Harrison, his hands gripping the patient’s hips. “Elevated heart rate correlates with tension here,” he says, a finger pressing into Harrison’s clenched hole. Harrison gasps, his body arching as Cole’s digit breaches him. “Muscular rigidity. Needs release.”

Caden drops to his knees, swallowing Harrison’s cock in one slick motion. His throat works greedily, saliva dripping down the shaft as Cole adds a second finger, scissoring Harrison open. The heart monitor’s beeps slow—80, 75, 70—as Harrison’s moans deepen. “See?” Caden pulls off, lips glistening. “Parasympathetic response. Works every time.”

Cole replaces his fingers with his cock, thick and uncut, pressing into Harrison’s loosened hole. Harrison’s head thuds against the exam table, his legs splayed as Cole’s thrusts turn punishing. Caden straddles Harrison’s chest, feeding him his own cock, the salty precum smearing Harrison’s lips. “Suck. Breathe. Focus,” Caden orders, his hips rolling.

The room reeks of antiseptic and sweat. Cole’s balls slap Harrison’s ass, his rhythm relentless, each drive aimed at Harrison’s prostate. The heart monitor steadies—60, 55—as Harrison’s body surrenders, his cock leaking untouched. Caden’s fingers pinch his nipples, the pain-pleasure blur pushing him closer.

Cole’s groan signals his climax, his cock jerking as he floods Harrison’s ass. Caden follows, his load shooting down Harrison’s throat. The monitor beeps a serene 50.

Harrison slumps, spent, his hole gaping, cum dripping onto the paper-lined table. Cole pats his shoulder. “Vitals stable. Prescription: weekly sessions.”

Caden winks, wiping his chin. “Next time, we’ll try group therapy.”