Shemale Doctor Sex with Chanel Santini

Title: A Naughty Appointment with Dr. Chanel Santini

In the bustling city of Las Vegas, Dr. Chanel Santini’s medical practice was a popular destination, but not for the reasons you might think. Word had spread about the shemale doctor’s unique style of treatment – one that involved plenty of stimulation in all the right places. And today, I was about to find out what all the fuss was about.

I walked into the sleek, modern office, my heart racing with anticipation. The receptionist smiled sweetly, but I could see a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Dr. Santini will see you now,” she said, gesturing towards the examination room.

As I entered, I was greeted by a vision of pure sexiness. Dr. Santini stood there, her tall, lean body clad in a tight, white lab coat that barely contained her curves. Her full breasts strained against the fabric, and I couldn’t help but notice the bulge in her pants.

“Hello there,” she purred, her voice like velvet. “I hear you’ve been having some… troubles down below.” She grinned, her eyes twinkling with wicked intent.

I nodded dumbly, my mouth suddenly dry. “Y-yes, Doctor. I’ve been experiencing some, um, issues.”

Dr. Santini sauntered over, her hips swaying seductively. “Well, don’t you worry. I specialize in treating patients like you.” She reached out and traced a finger down my chest, her touch sending shivers down my spine.

“Now, let’s get you out of those clothes,” she said, her voice taking on a commanding tone. “We need to do a thorough examination.”

My hands trembled as I began to undress, revealing my naked body to her hungry gaze. Dr. Santini licked her lips, her eyes roaming over every inch of my flesh. “Mmm, yes. Very nice indeed,” she murmured.

She had me lie down on the examination table, spreading my legs wide. I couldn’t help but blush as she gazed at my exposed manhood, already rock hard and eager for her touch. “Well, well,” she chuckled. “It seems like you’re ready for treatment.”

Without warning, she leaned down and took me into her mouth, her warm, wet lips enveloping my shaft. I let out a gasp of pleasure, my hips bucking up off the table. Dr. Santini moaned around my cock, sucking harder and faster, her skilled tongue swirling around the sensitive head.

Just as I was about to explode, she pulled away, leaving me throbbing and aching for release. “Not so fast,” she said with a wicked grin. “We still have a lot more to cover.”

She reached into a drawer and pulled out a strap-on, the thick, veiny shaft glistening with lube. My eyes widened as she began to secure it around her waist, the massive piece bobbing obscenely between her legs. “Now, let’s see how well you can take your medicine,” she purred.

Dr. Santini climbed onto the table, positioning herself between my spread thighs. She rubbed the tip of her strap-on against my entrance, teasing me mercilessly. “Tell me how badly you want it,” she demanded, her voice husky with desire.

“Please, Doctor,” I begged, too far gone to care about my dignity. “I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me.”

With a triumphant grin, she pushed forward, the thick head of the strap-on popping past my tight ring of muscle. I cried out at the sudden stretch, the intense pressure exquisite torture. Dr. Santini didn’t give me a chance to adjust, instead slamming forward and burying herself to the hilt inside me.

She set a brutal pace, her hips pistoning in and out as she rutted against me like an animal in heat. The table creaked beneath us, the sound of our flesh slapping together filling the room. I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles white as I tried to hold on for dear life.

“Take it, you fucking slut,” Dr. Santini growled, her voice raw and feral. “Take every fucking inch of my strap-on. Milk it with your tight little hole.”

I was lost in a haze of pleasure, my world narrowing down to the feel of her massive cock pounding into me, stretching me wider than I’d ever been stretched before. My own erection leaked steadily, my balls drawing up tight as I hurtled towards my climax.

Suddenly, Dr. Santini reached out and wrapped her hand around my shaft, stroking me in time with her thrusts. The double stimulation was too much to bear, and with a hoarse cry, I came harder than I ever had before. Thick ropes of cum spurted from my cock, splattering against my chest and stomach.

Dr. Santini continued to fuck me through my orgasm, drawing out my pleasure until I was a twitching, Panting mess. Only then did she finally relent, pulling out of me with a wet squelch. I lay there, completely spent, my body trembling with the aftershocks of my intense climax.

With a satisfied smirk, Dr. Santini wiped her strap-on clean and tucked it away. “There, all better?” she asked, her voice once again sweet and professional.

I could only nod dumbly, still struggling to catch my breath. She patted my thigh condescendingly. “Good. Don’t hesitate to come back if you need another treatment.”

And with that, she sauntered out of the room, leaving me to collect my clothes and my scattered wits. It was a miracle I managed to make it out of the office without falling over.

As I stepped out onto the bustling streets of Vegas, I couldn’t help but grin to myself. Truly, Dr. Chanel Santini was the best damn doctor a guy could ask for. And I had a feeling I’d be paying her a visit very soon…