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As Meg finished electronically signing the last page of the paperwork, she uploaded the document to the firm's system and breathed a sigh of relief. She was ahead of her schedule, and a sense of accomplishment filled her. Her mind wandered back to her last defense thesis, which she had poured hours into. The hard work had paid off, and now she was one step closer to achieving her dream of becoming a independent lawyer. In a moment of pride, she couldn't help but pat herself on the back, allowing herself a small smile.

Sitting at her desk in the dimly lit office, Meg scanned the room. Framed degrees and diplomas adorned the walls, a testament to the legal prowess that inhabited this space. Her boss, James McCarthy, was an intimidating yet fair man who had taken a liking to Meg from the start. He saw potential in her, and under his mentorship, she had blossomed into a competent legal assistant.

Her eyes fell on her reflection in the polished surface of her mahogany desk. Her emerald green eyes sparkled with determination, making her complexion glow even more than usual. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, accentuating her high cheekbones and full lips. She couldn't help but smile at how far she'd come since starting as an intern just three years ago.

She leaned back in her office chair, the soft leather cradling her curves as she reached for her phone. A text from Jeffrey caught her eye, and she hesitated for a moment before opening it. Their relationship was still new and unexpected, having begun in a crazy moment of passion. Meg couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as she thought about how quickly she had agreed to be his girlfriend. She knew she should be more discerning, especially given her professional aspirations.

Meg's mind drifted to their last encounter, her cheeks flushing slightly. Jeffrey's passionate cries of "Get pregnant!" as he climaxed inside her still echoed in her ears. She squirmed a bit in her chair.How had she ended up with someone like Jeffrey? His cluttered apartment filled with lewd anime figurines and the constant glow of screens playing cartoonish porn was a stark contrast to her own tastefully decorated condo.

Meg had always considered herself above watching porn, finding it degrading and unrealistic. Yet now she found herself exposed to Jeffrey's extensive collection, filled with outlandish scenarios and even animated drawings that made her blush. It was a whole new world she wasn't sure how to process.

But that dick... Meg bit her lip, remembering how good it felt when it was inside her. For all his faults, he knew how to use what nature had blessed him with. The way he filled her up and hit all the right spots left her trembling and seeing stars.

Meg shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. No, it wasn't really about dick length. There was something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Her fingers hovered over her phone, ready to open Jeffrey's message, when something caught her eye. The name on the screen read "Jake" - the fake name he had used when they first connected online. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her as she remembered how he had initially presented himself: successful, charming, and put-together. The reality had been quite different.

Meg's fingers hovered over her phone, hesitating. "Jake" needed to go, but what to replace it with? She bit her lower lip, lost in thought.

Jeffrey seemed too formal, boring. Too clean for what they shared. A parade of hearts like she used as a teenager felt childish now. What captured their connection?

Her mind drifted to their passionate encounters, cheeks flushing. The way he filled her so completely, crying out as he finished inside her. How she trembled beneath him, seeing stars.

"BigDick69" flashed through her mind and she stifled a laugh. "Stud Muffin"? No, too cheesy.

"Fuckboy" flitted through her mind, but felt too crass. "Little slut" made her blush, imagining Jeffrey's reaction. She knew he'd love "Daddy" given his fetishes.

No, she wanted something that captured how she **** him - as an extension of the part of him that gave her such pleasure. Her lips curled into a small smirk as she typed "Dick Pumper" into her contacts. It felt deliciously naughty, reducing him to just his appendage.

"Dick Pumper," she murmured, giggling despite herself. It was crude, but deliciously degrading. It would mean Jeffrey was no more than an attachment to his member. The way he pounded into her relentlessly, crying out about impregnating her...

Meg bit her lip, fighting back a moan. What was wrong with her? She was a professional woman with ambitions. Yet here she was, getting aroused thinking about her porn-obsessed, basement-dwelling boyfriend.

Meg glanced around the empty office. Maybe she should send Jeffrey - no, "Dick Pumper" - a little something to spice up his day. That's what a good girlfriend would do, right? Especially for someone so devoted to pleasuring her.

With trembling fingers, Meg unbuttoned the top of her crisp white blouse, revealing a hint of lacy black bra underneath. She pulled her pencil skirt up slightly, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of thigh above her stockings. Biting her lower lip seductively, she angled her phone to capture her best assets.

The resulting image was sultry yet tasteful. It showed Meg from her collarbones to mid-thigh, hinting at her curves without being overly explicit. Her unbuttoned blouse revealed just a peek of cleavage and black lace. The hiked-up skirt exposed a strip of creamy thigh above sheer black stockings. Her manicured hand rested suggestively on her hip.

Meg's emerald eyes smoldered as she examined the photo. She looked polished and professional, yet undeniably sexy. The contrast between her work attire and the hints of lingerie created an irresistible tease. It was the perfect blend of naughty and nice - just provocative enough to drive Jeffrey wild without compromising her dignity.

As she stared at the image, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. The photo was alluring, sure, but was it really enough for someone like Jeffrey? Her boyfriend spent hours each day immersed in the most **** pornography imaginable. Would this tame office tease even register on his desensitized radar?

She bit her lip, considering. Maybe she needed to push her boundaries a bit further. After all, she was dating a man whose entire world revolved around animated monsters and impossibly endowed cartoon girls. Her tasteful lingerie peek suddenly felt quaint by comparison.

With trembling fingers, Meg undid a few more buttons, exposing the full swell of her breasts barely contained by black lace. She hiked her skirt higher, revealing the lacy tops of her thigh-high stockings and a hint of garter belt. Angling the camera lower, she captured a teasing glimpse of her silk panties.

She hit send on both images, no caption needed. The whoosh of the sent message echoed in the quiet office.

Meg set her phone down, her cheeks flushed. The phone buzzed almost immediately. Her heart raced as she picked it up, eager to see Jeffrey's reaction. But as she read his message, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, good, thank you for getting in touch. I have to tell you about my problem. I have a condition that makes me produce too much sperm. My balls get big and painful, and if not extracted, they might blow up."

Meg blinked rapidly, reading the message several times. The formal tone and clinical language were so at odds with Jeffrey's usual crude, emoji-filled texts. And the content... she shook her head, trying to make sense of it.

"Produce too much sperm?" she whispered to herself, glancing around the empty office. "Balls might blow up?"

"Are you feeling okay?" she typed. As Meg waited for Jeffrey's response, her confusion grew. A few moments later, her phone buzzed again.

"No, I'm not okay. The pain has started, and it's getting worse by the minute. I don't think I can make it to the hospital. Is there any way you could send a nurse to help me? I'm ****."

Meg's brow furrowed deeper. This didn't sound right all. Just as she was about to call him to make sure he was alright, another message came through. This time, it was a photo.

The image showed a glossy package, slightly opened to reveal a glimpse of silky white fabric and a flash of red. Meg's eyes widened as she realized what she was looking at - a sexy nurse costume, complete with a tiny skirt and a low-cut top.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. The formal language, the bizarre medical condition, the costume - it was all part of an elaborate roleplay scenario. Meg felt a rush of relief, quickly followed by a surge of excitement that caught her off guard.

A mischievous smile played on Meg's lips as she realized the game Jeffrey was playing. She decided to lean into the roleplay, her fingers flying across her phone's keyboard.

"That sounds quite serious. As it happens, I've just sent two pictures that might help a patient in your situation. Perhaps you could self-administer the treatment?"

She waited, biting her lower lip in anticipation. His response came quickly:

"I'm afraid that's impossible. My hands are encased in plaster casts. I can't move them at all."

Meg let out a soft laugh, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh my," she typed back, "How curious that you're able to type then. It seems your condition is even more dire than I thought."

She paused, considering her next move. The thrill of the game was intoxicating, making her feel bold and daring. Her fingers hovered over the keys for a moment before she continued:

"Well, it appears there's no other option. I'll have to send a nurse for a home visit. She'll be able to provide the necessary care."

She hit send, then leaned back in her chair, her body tingling with anticipation. Meg glanced at the clock, as her phone buzzed again. Jeffrey's response made her bite her lip to stifle a giggle:

"Oh good, thank you. But I am in a lot of distress, can you send two?"

The image of herself and another woman ministering to Jeffrey's needs flashed through her mind, making her squirm in her seat. She took a deep breath, composing herself before replying:

"Mr. McMillan, I'm afraid your insurance only covers one professional, but I assure you, you'll be in good hands."

She smirked, imagining Jeffrey's reaction. His response came quickly: "Oh, I knew I should have accepted the upgrade."

Meg glanced at the clock again. It was early to leave, but she had already finished her work for the day. She gathered her things quickly, straightening her blouse and smoothing down her skirt. As she stood, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of her computer screen. Her cheeks were flushed, her green eyes bright with excitement. She looked... alive. More alive than she had in years.

“So… That is the terapeutic effect of a fuck..." She makes herself quietly laugh, playing with the fake mindset of a fake nurse. “It is good for the skin and moisturizes the insides..." She let out a loud single gag and held herself back quickly, moving her hand to cover her mouth.