Darling

The cream didn’t work, because two days later the itch was back—worse, if that was even possible. It had started in the morning while I was making coffee. A single brush of my shirt against my left nipple sent that familiar electric jolt straight to my clit.

And by afternoon I was squirming at my desk, thighs pressed together, trying to focus on spreadsheets while my pussy throbbed with every heartbeat. I changed bras twice. Nothing helped.

So my only option was to call Dr. Elena’s office again, but this time asking for a different doctor. Last time with Amon was weird, and I didn’t want weird. It’s a...