Your mother, Rebecca

You turned to Rebecca, your 38-year old mother, who had accompanied you to the doctor's visit. Her blonde hair was neatly pulled back, and her eyes held a mix of concern and determination. She looked at you with a resolve that made you feel both grateful and guilty.

"Mom, I... I don't know what to say," you stammered, your voice shaking slightly. "The doctor said I need to orgasm at least six times a day to stay healthy. I can't ask this of you."

Rebecca placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Can't afford to hire you an all-day prostitute. But don't worry, we will figure something out." She paused, her mind racing with possibilities. As a patent lawyer, she was used to solving complex problems and thinking on her feet. She had met your dad through her work, and his expertise in technology had always fascinated her.

You could almost see the gears turning in her head as she processed the information. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and you saw mom's light bulb go off. "I've got it! I know who, or what, could help you! Oh, but I can't tell you here, only in the car!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers.