Anne’s heart was already racing before she even sat down in the chair.

The crinkle of the paper headrest cover, the stale smell of disinfectant, the harsh fluorescent light above—it was all too much. Her palms were sweaty, her breathing shallow, and her stomach twisted with a nausea she couldn’t shake.

Jj had followed her into the exam room, like she’d asked him to. She needed him here. For support. For grounding.

He sat in the corner on a little rolling stool, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket, pretending to scroll on his phone—but Anne caught him glancing up at her, again and again.

His gaze lingered a little too long whenever she opened her mouth for the dentist. But she didn’t notice. Not really. Not consciously. She was too wrapped up in fear.

Dr. Meyer snapped on a fresh pair of gloves and rolled toward her. The stool’s wheels squeaked on the linoleum floor.

“Alright, Anne. Since we’ve already got you here for the retainer issue, I’m going to do a full checkup while we’re at it. Lingual retainers tend to hide plaque and decay… better to be safe than sorry, right?”

Anne’s gut clenched. “O-okay…” she whispered.

Her voice cracked embarrassingly thin.

The overhead light buzzed to life, and Dr. Meyer tilted her head back with a practiced hand.

“Open wide.”

Anne did, barely, her lips trembling.

Already, her mind started to fuzz over. It was the same horrible slide she always went through: the rising panic, the fight-or-flight prickling at the back of her neck, the bitter taste of adrenaline pooling under her tongue.

The cold metal explorer touched her front teeth first, dragging with a slow, scratchy sound that made her toes curl inside her sneakers.

Her legs stiffened. Jj sat up straighter.

“Lower your tongue for me,” Dr. Meyer said, and Anne did, embarrassed by how shaky she felt.

The dentist moved to her bottom molars, tilting her head to get a better angle. The instrument clicked against enamel, tapping and scraping. Every time it dug into a fissure, Anne’s stomach knotted tighter.

Her body jerked when the tip sank into a soft spot near her lower left molar.

“Mm-hmm.” Dr. Meyer made a low noise in his throat, then pushed a little harder, testing the give in the enamel.

The dull, sudden ache shot straight through her jaw. Anne’s hands clenched into fists on her lap.

Unseen by her, Jj’s leg stopped bouncing. He was sitting completely still now, leaning forward just slightly, pretending to focus on his phone but actually watching every twitch of her fingers, every subtle movement in her throat as she swallowed nervously.

The next poke hit even deeper.

Anne’s shoulders flinched upward. A tiny gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Her face flushed deep red. Mortified, she kept her eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out the reality that Jj was witnessing all of this.

The small, helpless sounds she was making. The full-body tension. The way she could barely keep still under the dentist’s hands.

God, she felt like a kid.

Dr. Meyer moved on, using the mirror to stretch her cheek wide as he started prodding at her upper molars.

“I’m seeing more than I’d like,” he said casually, almost to himself.

Anne’s stomach sank.

He tapped again at a rear tooth. Another soft spot. Then another. He dug the explorer into a fissure on her top right molar and twisted, checking for softness under the enamel.

She twitched again, hissing in pain.

Jj shifted in his chair. His breathing had slowed.

If Anne had opened her eyes just then, she might’ve noticed the faint flush creeping up his neck, or the way his fingers curled tighter around his phone like he was trying to anchor himself.

Dr. Meyer kept narrating findings in a detached, clinical tone.

“Lower left—deep fissure, definitely decay. Upper left—interproximal lesion forming. Lower right—multiple soft spots. And your upper right second molar… significant breakdown on the occlusal surface.”

Each sentence hit Anne like a hammer.

The heat of shame climbed higher in her throat with every diagnosis.

“Looks like we’re talking… five, six… maybe more areas of active decay,” the dentist concluded. “Not uncommon in cases with severe phobia and oral neglect. Don’t worry, we’ll get you sorted.”

Anne’s cheeks burned.

She wanted to disappear into the floor.

Her eyes flicked toward Jj for the first time since the exam started. She half expected him to look disgusted. Or awkward. Or at least pitying.

But instead, his face was unreadable.

His gaze was locked on her… intense… focused… like he was studying every tiny movement she made.

Anne looked away quickly, her heart pounding with a confusing mix of fear, shame, and… something she couldn’t name.

The dentist peeled off his gloves and made some notes in her chart.

“We’ll need to talk treatment plans,” he said casually. “We’re definitely looking at multiple fillings.”

Anne swallowed hard. She could already feel the next wave of panic coming. The thought of drills… injections… more pain… and having Jj right there to see it all…

Her breath hitched.

Jj finally stood up from his stool and moved beside her, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” he murmured, low enough that only she could hear. “You’re doing great. Seriously. I’m proud of you.”

The words should have comforted her.

But for some reason… the way he said it sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Dr. Meyer was already reaching for the tray, pulling out a set of drill bits and a cotton roll.

The real nightmare was about to begin.

Anne sat frozen in the chair, her hands balled tightly in her lap, her nails digging into her palms.

Her face was burning so hot she thought she might faint.

The little suction hose sat unused beside her; the dentist hadn’t even started treatment yet, just the exam. But already, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

She heard the faint crinkle of latex as Dr. Meyer pulled on a fresh pair of gloves.

“Jj? Mind giving me a hand for a second?”

Her heart dropped.

Oh no.

Jj stood, stepping closer to the chair with that casual, easy stride of his—totally at ease in the room, while Anne was sinking deeper and deeper into mortification.

“I just want to walk you through what’s going on back here,” Dr. Meyer said, gesturing toward Anne’s open mouth as he picked up the mirror and explorer again. “Sometimes it helps when support people understand the full picture.”

Support people.

Anne’s stomach twisted at the term.

She stared at the ceiling tiles, cheeks burning, praying this wouldn’t take long.

“Go ahead and open big for me again, Anne.”

Her throat tightened. Still, she obeyed.

Her mouth opened, trembling at the corners. She felt completely exposed. Vulnerable in a way that made her toes curl and her stomach knot.

The mirror pushed her tongue aside, stretching her cheek until it hurt.

Dr. Meyer angled the overhead light and motioned for Jj to lean in.

“Start with the lower left quadrant,” the dentist said, tapping at the rear molar with the sharp end of the explorer. The scratching sound was loud in her ears. “This molar here—big soft spot on the occlusal surface. When I press, you can actually feel the stickiness.”

Anne winced as the metal dug in again.

Jj made a quiet hum of acknowledgment, stepping in even closer, peering directly into her mouth.

She could feel his breath ghosting against her temple.

Her boyfriend was now literally inches from her open, helpless mouth, watching as the dentist poked into each cavity like he was giving a technical tour of her personal shame.

“And moving forward—premolar has incipient decay along the groove here,” Dr. Meyer continued, dragging the tip along a faint, chalky white line Anne hadn’t even known existed. “Softened enamel, likely to break down further without treatment.”

The mirror shifted. Her lip stretched awkwardly.

“Upper left now… see this?” The dentist twisted to give Jj a better angle. “Deep fissure here. When I press…”

Another sharp poke.

Anne flinched involuntarily. Her whole body tensed in the chair.

Jj was quiet—but still leaning over her, gaze fixed on every tiny motion of her mouth, every twitch of her jaw.

“And interproximal decay starting between these two premolars. Not visible without the mirror, but feel free to look… right there… see that dark shadow under the enamel?”

Anne’s embarrassment ratcheted higher. She wanted to sink through the floor.

The way the dentist spoke—so technical, so detached—it made her feel like a broken specimen being shown off to an intern.

And Jj… why wasn’t he looking away? Why wasn’t he acting uncomfortable? Why did he seem… engaged?

“And now, the upper right quadrant,” Dr. Meyer continued, tugging her cheek again to angle the mirror. “This molar… significant breakdown. Feel the explorer sink when I press into the occlusal surface?”

The pointed tip sank deep into the spongy decay, sending a muted, dull ache through her jaw.

Anne whimpered softly.

She could feel Jj watching. She could feel him noticing every tiny sound she made.

“Finally, the lower right,” Dr. Meyer said. “Multiple smaller spots. Nothing catastrophic, but it’ll turn into something worse if we don’t intervene soon.”

Tap… tap… scratch… each pass of the explorer another small humiliation.

By the time the dentist set his tools down, Anne’s face was fully flushed, her throat tight with tears she fought to keep back.

Jj straightened, stepping back just a little, but his eyes lingered on her lips, her teeth, her neck where her pulse fluttered visibly.

“Thanks for being patient, Anne,” Dr. Meyer said, tugging off his gloves with a snap. “I know this isn’t easy for you. But we’re gonna get you fixed up, alright?”

Anne nodded stiffly, unable to speak.

Jj’s hand found her shoulder again, squeezing it gently, his voice soft and reassuring.

“You’re being so brave,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”

But there was something in the way he said it.

Something… warmer than just comfort.

Anne swallowed hard, trying to shake the strange feeling creeping over her.

Her cavities were laid bare. Jj had seen them all.

And somehow… it felt like the worst part of her had been put on full display.

And… Jj hadn’t looked away once.

Anne barely had time to sit up and catch her breath before she heard Jj’s voice—smooth, casual, just like always—but with that edge of curiosity she wasn’t used to hearing in this setting.

“So… those look like you’re going to have to drill pretty deep, huh?”

Her stomach flipped.

She shot him a look—wide-eyed, disbelieving—but Jj was standing by the side of the chair, arms crossed, watching Dr. Meyer with a sort of… focused interest.

The dentist chuckled, flipping through her chart. “Yeah, some of these lesions are pretty extensive, especially on those upper molars. We’ll need to clean out all the soft decay before we fill them.”

Anne felt her heart rate climb again at the word drill.

That horrible sound… the smell… the vibration deep in her skull…

Her legs twitched on the chair, a small involuntary panic response she couldn’t control.

Jj must have felt her shift, because his gaze flicked back to her for just a second, almost like he was checking for a reaction… before turning back to the dentist.

“She really hates needles,” Jj said, giving a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if they were just talking about her being scared of spiders or thunderstorms. “I mean… really hates them.”

Anne’s eyes widened even more.

Her mouth opened, as if she was about to protest, but the words stuck in her throat.

Jj went on, gesturing casually with one hand: “Is there… any way you could maybe do the drilling without numbing? I know with shallow cavities sometimes you can skip the anesthetic, right?”

The question hung in the air.

Anne’s stomach knotted so hard she felt dizzy.

What the hell?

The dentist hesitated, giving Jj a thoughtful look, then glanced down at her chart again.

“For the small ones, maybe,” Dr. Meyer said slowly. “But with the size of these… especially the upper molar decay? Honestly… I’d recommend anesthetic. It’s going to get sensitive. Deep dentin layers, close to the pulp in a couple of spots.”

Anne clutched the armrests now, her fingers going white at the knuckles.

Jj gave a thoughtful hum like he was genuinely weighing the pros and cons, glancing down at her again with that practiced, supportive expression.

“I mean, it’s up to you, babe,” he said lightly. “I just… figured if you hate needles that much… might be worth asking, right?”

Anne’s throat closed up. She could barely breathe.

On the one hand… God, she hated injections—the pinch, the pressure, the long burning sensation as the anesthetic spread through her jaw—but…

On the other hand… the drill.

The sharp, vibrating, high-pitched grinding straight into her teeth.

The thought of feeling all of that… raw… un-numbed…

Jj stepped back to sit in the corner again—but not too far. Close enough to watch. Close enough to see every reaction.

And Anne… trapped in the chair, with her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed… had no idea how long this was going to haunt her.

Or… how much Jj was secretly looking forward to the next part.

The dentist returned, holding the instrument in both hands like it weighed something. It gleamed under the harsh overhead light—cold metal, heavy, with thick curved arms and wide-pronged ends.

Anne's eyes widened the second she saw it. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Wait—what’s that?” she managed, voice shaking.

Dr. Patel gave her a faint, clinical smile. “This is called a Jennings mouth gag. Extra-large size, I’m afraid. It’ll help us keep you open while I do a full visual and tactile exam. Given your gag reflex and how tense you are, it’s safer and faster this way.”

Anne shook her head, instantly regretting coming at all. She gripped the chair arms, her knuckles whitening. JJ, seated just a few feet away, shifted forward, eyes trained on the instrument like it was the most fascinating thing he’d seen all day.

“Hold still for me now,” the dentist said, stepping close. “Biggest ‘ahh’ you’ve got.”

Anne’s heart hammered in her ears. Every muscle in her jaw resisted, but instinct and panic overrode it and she opened wide, though not nearly wide enough for the monstrous thing coming toward her.

Cold metal pressed against the corners of her lips. The curved prongs slotted roughly behind her molars, first on one side, then the other. She whimpered as her lips stretched too far, her jaw muscles screaming in protest.

Click. Click. Click.

Dr. Patel slowly ratcheted the gag wider, the mechanism creaking with each notch. Anne could feel every millimeter of her mouth being forced open. The cold metal bit into the sensitive inner corners of her mouth, and within seconds her lips were splitting slightly at the edges, a sharp sting blooming. Drool began to gather at the back of her throat.

Her eyes darted desperately toward JJ, searching for help, but he was just... watching. Elbows on his knees, staring openly at her gaped mouth like she was some exhibit.

“Doing great,” he said softly, almost too quickly.

Anne moaned in embarrassment. She tried to swallow, but the gag pinned her tongue low, making even that difficult.

“Let’s get a good look at everything now,” Dr. Patel murmured, fitting a bright headlamp on and leaning in with his mirror and probe.

JJ cleared his throat awkwardly but couldn’t help asking:

“Looks like... you’re gonna have to drill pretty deep, right?” His voice wavered between casual and something else.

Dr. Patel smirked without looking up. “Oh, we’re not even halfway through yet. But yes... once we’re done charting everything, there’s going to be a lot of work.”

JJ rubbed the back of his neck. “She... uh… she hates needles. Any chance you could, you know… do some of the fillings without numbing?”

Anne’s eyes went wide in horror. A muffled, desperate grunt escaped her stretched mouth, something like: “No-oohh!”

Dr. Patel paused for just a second, then smiled wider. “Well… let’s first finish the exam and see how bad it really is.”

With that, he angled his mirror deep into her throat, tilted her head back, and began pressing hard against every tender, unprotected surface he could find.

Anne’s heart pounded against her ribs, her breathing shallow and panicked through her nose. The gag held her wide open, vulnerable, humiliated. Saliva pooled faster than she could manage, trickling down the sides of her mouth and over her chin. Her tongue, pinned and useless, lay slack against the floor of her mouth while Dr. Patel methodically poked and prodded at her back molars with the cold steel explorer.

“Hmm…” the dentist muttered, tilting her head back further, making the ceiling lights blur in her vision. “Interproximal breakdown on the sixes… carious fissures on both sevens… and this eight back here... well, honestly, it’s barely hanging in there.”

Anne whimpered, her eyes glossing with panic and tears. The shame of JJ sitting there watching, hearing her decay being listed out loud, made her stomach churn.

Dr. Patel sat back on his stool, pulling off his gloves with a snap. Then, unexpectedly, he turned to JJ.

“You seem… invested,” the dentist said with a wry little grin, as though it were a private joke only he understood.

JJ blinked, startled at first, but then smiled sheepishly. “I, uh… well… I guess I’m just… curious about the process.”

Dr. Patel’s grin widened. “Curious is good. In fact…” He stood, gesturing for JJ to come closer. “If you’re up for it—and with my supervision—you can help me chart the rest. Nothing too technical. Just explore with the mirror and probe. I’ll guide you.”

Anne’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her hands flailed weakly at her sides, but strapped under the weight of fear and restraint, she was powerless to intervene. A panicked, wet gurgle escaped her throat.

JJ glanced at her, then back to the dentist, biting his lip as if weighing the offer. “You’re serious?”

“Perfectly serious,” Dr. Patel said. “It’s not often I get to teach someone who’s actually eager. Don’t worry, I won’t let you hurt her… much.” The dentist chuckled softly, already pulling a fresh pair of gloves from the box and handing them to JJ.

JJ slipped the gloves on with shaky hands, his breathing a little heavier now. He moved to Anne’s side, holding the small mouth mirror clumsily at first.

“Here,” Dr. Patel instructed, leaning in close behind him, voice low and steady like a teacher coaching a student. “Angle the mirror like this… now see that dark shadow along the fissure line? Use the probe… right there. Give it a firm press. You’ll feel the softness if there’s decay underneath.”

JJ’s hand trembled as he brought the sharp explorer tip down onto Anne’s upper left molar. The cold metal met enamel. Anne jerked involuntarily, eyes wide with terror, but there was nowhere to go—no way to stop any of this. Her breath hitched as JJ pressed, a little harder than necessary.

“There,” JJ said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. “I felt it give.”

“Exactly,” Dr. Patel said, smiling approvingly. “That’s active decay. Good eye… good touch.”

JJ worked down her arch, tooth by tooth, following the dentist’s whispered directions. Each time the sharp probe sank into a sticky, hidden cavity, Anne felt her face burning hotter with embarrassment and fear. She could taste the metallic tang of her own saliva, feel the cold air drying out her throat, and above all, she could see the fascination on JJ’s face grow with each discovery.

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Patel said finally, patting Anne’s shoulder with mock reassurance. “We’ll take good care of all of these… defects. But first, let’s finish mapping out every single one.”

Anne could do nothing but lay there, stretched, exposed, and utterly at their mercy as JJ repositioned the mirror once more.

Anne’s heart thudded so hard she felt it in her throat. Her hands, clammy and shaking, gripped uselessly at the edge of the chair’s armrests. The XXL Jennings gag kept her mouth stretched obscenely wide, jaw muscles trembling with the strain. Saliva dripped steadily from both corners of her mouth onto the paper bib below. Her whole face burned with a mixture of fear, humiliation, and disbelief at what was happening.

She heard the distinct whir of the old dental drill as Dr. Patel tested it in the air—a harsh, mechanical screech, high-pitched and metallic, like something from an old workshop. There was no water spray. No cooling mist. Just raw, dry cutting power.

“Now… JJ,” Dr. Patel said, holding the slow-speed handpiece toward him with a knowing smile, “if you’re serious about learning, here’s your chance.”

JJ froze for a second, blinking, then slowly reached out to take the heavy, cold metal handpiece. His gloved fingers curled around it awkwardly. Anne’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the look of excitement flicker behind his eyes—something hungry and electric.

“She hates needles,” JJ said, glancing at Dr. Patel with a half-grin, half-apology. “Any chance… we just go without?”

Dr. Patel paused, tilting his head. “No anesthetic? It’s... unconventional for this level of decay. But… if she’s as phobic as you say... and if you think she’ll manage…” His gaze slid to Anne’s tearful, panicked face, her body visibly trembling. “We’ll proceed carefully. But if she signals anything unsafe, I step in immediately.”

JJ nodded, trying to look serious—but Anne caught the slight tremor of anticipation in his hands as he brought the drill closer to her open mouth.

“Start with the upper left six,” Dr. Patel instructed, tapping the molar with the end of the probe. “Just breach the surface… shallow first pass. Let her feel it, but don’t go too deep yet. Feather the trigger.”

Anne’s whole body stiffened. The room seemed to shrink in around her, the walls closing in. JJ’s shadow loomed over her, the overhead light blazing into her eyes.

The drill screamed to life.

The first touch of the bur against her enamel felt like a vibration that shook her entire skull. A loud, bone-jarring screech echoed through her head as JJ pressed tentatively but firmly onto the surface of the decayed molar.

A sharp, hot sting flared up as the bur broke through the softened decay, grinding dry through the dead tooth structure. Anne’s legs kicked instinctively against the chair base. Her throat made desperate choking sounds, but the gag swallowed every attempt at protest.

JJ pulled back after just a few seconds, looking over at Dr. Patel like a student waiting for a grade.

“Good,” the dentist said, watching closely. “You felt the difference in texture, right? First the hard outer enamel, then that mushy drag as you entered decay?”

JJ nodded eagerly. “Yeah… it felt… softer once I broke through.”

“Exactly. That’s the diseased dentin. Now… go back in. This time, open it wider. We need full access for proper cleaning.”

Anne’s eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling freely now. The drill shrieked again as JJ repositioned, angling for better leverage.

The smell was the worst part—the hot, acrid scent of burning tooth dust filled the air almost immediately. Without water cooling, the friction scorched the dentin and enamel, making her head feel like it might burst.

Her whole body arched off the chair as JJ dug deeper, the vibration rattling through her jawbone. Each second stretched unbearably long.

Between drilling bursts, Dr. Patel kept narrating like it was a classroom demo:

“Notice how the bur starts to bog down when you hit the deeper carious layer? That’s when you need to lift off and clear debris. Go back in with a sweeping motion… like this…”

He guided JJ’s hand briefly, applying more pressure than Anne thought possible. The drill bit chewed noisily, making her toes curl in her shoes.

“Almost through the worst part on this one,” JJ said breathlessly, glancing down at her like a craftsman inspecting a stubborn project.

Dr. Patel nodded approvingly. “Next, we’ll open the sevens. Then I’ll show you how to check for pulpal exposure.”

Anne lay there, sobbing quietly, the drill once again revving to life at the edge of her hearing. This nightmare was far from over.

The dentist’s calm, steady hands produced a pair of thick leather cuffs from a nearby tray. “We need to make sure you stay completely still during this,” he explained in a clinical tone, sliding the cuffs toward Anne’s wrists.

Anne’s eyes widened in panic as the dentist gently but firmly clasped the cuffs around her wrists, securing them to the sturdy armrests of the dental chair. The snug leather bit into her skin, restricting her movements completely. The sudden loss of freedom sent a jolt of fear through her body.

Muffled behind the Jennings retractor, Anne’s wide eyes searched JJ’s face for reassurance. But before she could react further, JJ leaned in close, his expression shifting from concern to something more determined.

His hands were steady, but Anne’s heart leapt in surprise as he reached for her waist. Slowly, deliberately, JJ slipped the belt of her skirt loose, and without hesitation began pulling it down. Her eyes widened in disbelief, panic mixing with helplessness as her skirt pooled at her feet.

“Mmmph!” Anne’s muffled protest escaped through the gag, her wide eyes begging him to stop.

But JJ’s fingers continued—careful but unyielding—unhooking her bra, sliding it off her shoulders, exposing her bare skin to the cold air.

Her breath caught in a ragged gasp as he eased the last barrier down, removing her panties, leaving her utterly exposed beneath the harsh glare of the clinic lights, wrists restrained, mouth held wide.

Anne’s cheeks flushed crimson, a wave of vulnerability crashing over her. She tried to pull back, but the cuffs held firm.

JJ’s gaze softened as he caught the flicker of fear and awe in her eyes. “You’re safe,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her flushed face, “I’ve got you.”

The Jennings retractor held Anne’s mouth wide open, straining her jaw past any natural limit. The cold metal dug mercilessly into the corners of her lips, forcing them back until her gums and teeth were laid completely bare under the harsh operatory light. Her tongue pressed uselessly against the floor of her mouth, trembling with the rest of her body.

Her breathing came shallow and fast, chest rising and falling in panicked bursts. Naked, humiliated, and pinned under the weight of the dentist’s clinical focus, she had nowhere to run. Her eyes darted toward JJ, desperate, but he just stood there… watching. Watching everything.

When the dentist picked up the old, dull drill with a heavy, metallic click, her whole body jerked instinctively against the chair restraints. The motor coughed to life with a low, rattling whir—a guttural, underpowered grind that sounded almost as exhausted as it was menacing.

"Stay still, Anne," the dentist said with cool indifference. "This won’t take long… if you cooperate."

Her heart pounded louder than the drill. But then JJ moved.

Without touching her face, without interfering near her mouth, JJ's hands slid over her bare thighs, fingers kneading deep into the trembling muscle just above her knees. Slowly, almost languidly, he let his palms drift upward, tracing along the soft skin of her inner thighs. The heat from his hands was unbearable—too much and not enough at the same time.

Her skin flushed with a mixture of humiliation and raw, confused need. He squeezed just enough to let her feel his control—fingers pressing into the delicate crease between her thigh and hip.

"You're doing good," JJ murmured near her ear, but keeping clear of her mouth. His voice was low, slow, too steady—his breath warm against the side of her neck. He pressed a line of slow, teasing kisses along her collarbone, letting his lips linger just at the base of her throat. "Just focus on me… forget the rest."

The drill bit met the first tooth.

The contact was immediate, brutal. A screeching vibration ricocheted through her jawbone and into her skull. The old bur chewed mercilessly through enamel and decay, no water, no cooling, just raw friction. The smell of burning tooth filled the air—bitter, acrid, unmistakable.

Anne's whole body stiffened, toes curling, thighs tensing under JJ’s hands—but he didn't let her pull away. His grip tightened, holding her in place, stroking her trembling skin as if calming a wild animal.

Her fists clenched hard on the chair’s armrests. Tears welled up and spilled down her temples, but JJ’s hands slid higher still, tracing the trembling line of her stomach, thumbs grazing along the sensitive dip of her pelvis, deliberately keeping her mind—and body—overstimulated.

The drill whined harder, pushing deeper into the rot.

JJ’s mouth found the soft, damp skin at the curve of her shoulder and bit down—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to shock her nerves, giving her brain something else to process. His other hand palmed her breast, thumb flicking across the hardened peak with a slow, tormenting pressure.

The sensations crashed into each other—pain, heat, vibration, restraint. Every nerve in her body firing in chaos.

She was trapped in it all: the relentless drill against her nerves, the harsh bite of the retractor holding her open, the overwhelming presence of JJ’s hands, lips, and whispered encouragements… and the knowledge that both men were watching her fall apart—each in their own way.

And she could do nothing to stop it.

JJ’s hands didn’t just soothe anymore — they commanded. His fingers pressed harder into the soft swell of Anne’s inner thighs, spreading her legs slightly wider against the chair’s restraints. The heat from his touch deepened, fingers teasing just beneath the thin skin at the top of her thighs, barely brushing the sensitive crease where her hips met her pelvis.

His palms roamed faster now, stroking, kneading, grounding her with a fierce urgency that left no room for fear to take hold. His grip tightened around one thigh, holding her still, while his other hand slid up beneath her ribs, skimming the curve of her waist and dipping lower to cup her hip bone.

The contrast between the brutal grind of the drill biting into her tooth and JJ’s insistent, possessive hands sent an electric pulse through Anne’s body. Her breath hitched in her throat as his thumb circled slow, languid patterns on the soft, bare skin above her hip.

He didn’t speak—only let his hands and body language convey that he was there, fully in control, protecting her in this chaos.

Then JJ’s mouth found her neck again. This time, his kisses were hotter, darker—pressing firm, almost demanding. He nipped lightly beneath her jaw, tracing down to the hollow of her collarbone, then flicked his tongue teasingly along her pulse point.

Anne shuddered, a sharp contrast to the dull roar of pain pulsing in her jaw where the drill bit ground mercilessly. She could feel every vibration through her teeth, but JJ’s touch pulled her focus elsewhere—into the tangled heat pooling low in her belly, into the flush of skin beneath his hands.

His fingers trailed slowly up the sides of her thighs, pausing just short of the waistband of her underwear, teasing the edge with feather-light grazes that made her whole body tense and quiver.

The dentist’s drill screamed again—raw, metallic, merciless. But JJ’s hands were steady, insistent, a tether to something alive and urgent, a storm of sensation to drown out the fear.

“Breathe with me,” JJ murmured near her ear, voice thick with a husky calm that both soothed and commanded. “You’re doing so well, Anne. Just stay with me.”

His palm pressed firm against her stomach, fingers splaying wide, anchoring her as the drill bit tore deeper into her tooth, sending shockwaves of discomfort straight into her core.

The overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure left her trembling—held captive between torment and surrender, trapped by the cold metal retractor and the searing drill, yet grounded and claimed by JJ’s fierce, escalating presence.

The drill’s high-pitched whine shifted as the dentist moved toward a smaller, more delicate tooth, the vibrations turning sharper, more biting. Anne’s eyes fluttered shut, her body tensing involuntarily as the harsh metallic scrape echoed inside her mouth.

JJ’s breath was hot against her neck, his hands still firm and commanding, but now his lips trailed from the hollow beneath her ear down toward her collarbone. He pressed a slow, deliberate kiss there, tongue flicking teasingly over the tender skin.

Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, every nerve suddenly alight, muscles trembling from the swirling mix of pain and sensation.

JJ’s mouth dipped lower, lips brushing a tender path down the hollow of her throat, teeth grazing softly over the sensitive skin. His tongue traced the pulse point, slow and deliberate, while his hand slid up beneath her ribs to cradle her waist.

Anne’s pulse thundered as the dentist’s drill rasped mercilessly at the sensitive tooth, the pain sharp but mingling with the growing heat spreading from JJ’s mouth.

He didn’t rush. Instead, JJ’s kisses deepened, sinking lower over her bare skin, each press of his lips and flick of his tongue a sweet, grounding anchor as the sharp sting inside her mouth threatened to overwhelm.

His hand tightened slightly on her waist, pulling her closer as his lips brushed again against her throat, warm and insistent, while the drill scraped relentlessly.

Anne’s breath came in shallow gasps, caught between the harsh invasion in her mouth and the intoxicating warmth of JJ’s lips trailing over her neck — a fierce, intoxicating tether that kept her grounded in the moment.

The dentist’s drill buzzed relentlessly, the dull, grinding scrape as the worn metal bit into Anne’s tooth reverberating through her skull. The sound was merciless—high-pitched, uneven—without the usual soothing wash of water to dull the heat and dust. Each rotation felt like it was stripping away layers of her sanity along with the decay.

Her jaw was forced wide by the large Jennings retractor, muscles trembling from the unnatural stretch, dry and chafed. Flecks of tooth dust and gritty debris scattered as the drill chewed into the stubborn cavity, the faint metallic tang sharp on her tongue.

Her breath came in uneven, shallow gasps, the sterile, antiseptic smell mixing with the harsh noise and vibrations pulsing through her head.

Then, JJ’s mouth drifted lower, tracing a slow, teasing path along the inside of her thigh, just beneath the hem of her skirt. His lips pressed soft, warm kisses over the sensitive skin, sending shivers rippling through her spine.

The contrast was dizzying. The harsh scrape of the drill attacking her tooth was suddenly tangled with the soft, wet warmth of JJ’s mouth exploring the delicate flesh of her inner thigh. His tongue flicked teasingly, slow and deliberate, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her lips—silent behind the retractor.

The dentist’s gloved hand was steady but unrelenting, guiding the drill’s tip deeper into the decayed enamel. Anne could feel the vibration sharpen as the worn drill burr hit tender dentin beneath the enamel, a deep ache blooming that made her muscles clench reflexively.

JJ’s hand slipped upward, fingers curling around the curve of her hip, steadying her as the drill’s harsh rasping sound seemed to echo louder, the tooth nerve screaming beneath the metal assault.

His mouth dipped lower, lips closing around the delicate skin just above her knee, teeth grazing softly, sending sparks of heat that battled with the cold, clinical pain from the drill. The wet, warm pressure was an intoxicating anchor, a breath of life beneath the sterile cruelty of the dental chair.

Each rasp of the drill was a jagged spike of sensation, but JJ’s explorations were a soft, steady pulse beneath it all—an illicit promise of relief, distraction, and something wildly different amid the sterile agony.

The dentist’s drill rasped mercilessly deeper into the tender core of Anne’s tooth. Each rasping scrape was a sharp jolt that seemed to vibrate right down through her skull and spine, the worn bit biting into sensitive dentin with a grinding persistence that left no room for escape. The harsh sound echoed in the sterile room, relentless and raw, the acrid scent of burned enamel thick in the air.

Anne’s mouth was stretched impossibly wide by the XXL Jennings retractor, dry and chapped from the tension, her breath hitching in short, shallow gasps that barely escaped through the open gap.

Meanwhile, JJ’s mouth had traveled far lower now, his lips brushing gently over the bare skin of her inner thigh, tracing slow, heated circles just beneath the hem of her skirt. His breath was warm, soft against the sensitive flesh as his tongue flicked teasingly.

Then, carefully, deliberately, JJ slipped his mouth beneath her underwear. The sudden wet heat of his tongue pressed against the tender skin of her baby maker was a shock — sharp and electric — sending a tremor spiraling through Anne’s body. His mouth was warm, slick, and attentive, exploring with slow, teasing licks that left her breathless and trembling.

Despite the agony in her tooth, the raw scraping vibrations from the drill, JJ’s touch was an intoxicating anchor, grounding her to this moment, breaking through the sterile pain with a forbidden heat.

Her fingers clenched the armrests, muscles taut, every rasp and grind of the drill biting deeper, while JJ’s mouth lavished tender attention just below, stirring sensations that competed fiercely with the relentless pain above.

The dentist’s focus never wavered, pushing the drill deeper, scraping away decay layer by fragile layer, while JJ’s mouth promised a different kind of relief — one she desperately needed but never expected here, in this cold, clinical room.

JJ’s breath hitched as the warmth and wet heat of his own actions mingled with the stark, raw sound of the drill. The sharp rasping noise, the scent of burning enamel, and the fragile tension in Anne’s body overwhelmed his senses. His fingers trembled slightly, his heartbeat pounding in his ears louder than the drill’s grinding hum.

He pulled back for a moment, lips still glistening with moisture, his eyes dark with a mixture of desire and awe. The sight of Anne stretched out before him — vulnerable, exposed, the big Jennings retractor holding her mouth wide, her flushed skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat — ignited a fierce impulse inside him.

Without a word, JJ began unbuttoning his shirt, his hands shaking as he peeled it off, revealing skin that flushed hot with adrenaline. Then his belt, his pants, and finally his underwear followed in quick succession, until he stood there completely naked beside the chair, his body flushed, his gaze locked on Anne’s.

The sterile, clinical room felt charged with a new kind of energy — raw, urgent, and intimate. JJ’s eyes flicked to the dentist, who barely glanced up, engrossed in his work, the drill’s rasping scraping continuing unabated.

JJ’s hands found Anne’s bare thigh, fingers tracing slow, grounding patterns to steady them both. His breath mingled with hers, warm and steady, as he silently vowed to be her anchor through every rasp and scrape that the drill would bring.

JJ’s breath hitched as the drill’s rasping sound grew sharper, slicing through the tense silence of the room. The smell of heated enamel mixed with Anne’s soft gasps, her skin flushed and glistening beneath the harsh overhead light. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

Without a word, JJ shifted closer, his gaze locked on Anne’s flushed face framed by the large Jennings retractor. His hands trembled, desperate to ground himself and her both.

Then, driven by a sudden, overwhelming need, he climbed up onto the chair beside her, his bare skin pressing against hers. The sterile leather was cool beneath him, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating between them.

His body hovered over hers, heavy and urgent. JJ’s hands slid down to cup her hips firmly, fingers pressing into the soft skin, holding her steady as the relentless rasp of the drill continued. The harsh, grinding sound intertwined with the muffled whimpers slipping from Anne’s lips.

He didn’t touch her mouth, not yet—his focus was lower, where the heat pooled deep inside her. His breath ghosted over her bare skin as the dentist’s drill scraped and burred mercilessly into the vulnerable tooth.

Every rasp, every vibration of the drill echoed through Anne’s body—and through JJ’s.

He pressed closer, their bare chests nearly touching, his movements slow but insistent, matching the rhythm of the merciless, unrelenting drill.

Anne’s eyes, wide and glistening, locked onto JJ’s with a silent plea — more. The sharp, relentless grind of the drill was a storm inside her mouth, but her body screamed for something else, something far beyond the soft teasing of his lips. Her breath hitched in a ragged gasp, trembling with the ache and the overwhelming need to be completely overwhelmed.

JJ caught her unspoken message instantly. He slipped his mouth lower, fingers tracing hot, demanding lines along her hips, and then further down — exploring, igniting every nerve ending he could reach. His mouth followed, pressing warm, urgent kisses against the sensitive swell of her lower abdomen, flicking his tongue where her desire throbbed strongest.

Anne’s body jerked in the chair, the tension of the drill vibrating through her skull clashing with the flood of heat rising from JJ’s touch. The contrast was dizzying — the cold clinical fear mingling with the raw, carnal need blooming between them. Her hands clenched the armrests, knuckles white, but her hips arched up instinctively, craving the exquisite pressure only JJ could give.

JJ’s mouth claimed her, lips wrapping around the most tender spot with a hunger that matched the desperation in Anne’s eyes. His fingers teased and stroked, mastering the dance of sensation and distraction. Every flick of his tongue was timed to the drill’s harsh rasp, pulling her away from the pain and into a world where only he and her craving existed.

The dentist’s voice faded to background noise, the sterile light blurring into the haze of sensation and sound. JJ was her anchor — fierce, insistent, and utterly consuming.

Anne’s breaths came faster, mingled with soft whimpers that barely escaped the wide-open mouth forced by the large retractor. The overwhelming sensation pushed her closer and closer to the edge, where pain and pleasure merged into a wild, intoxicating release.

Anne’s breath hitched sharply, her eyes searching JJ’s for understanding. His mouth alone was a delicious torment, but it wasn’t enough. Her body trembled beneath his touch, the electric need deepening — raw, urgent, insatiable.

Without a word, her hands reached for his shoulders, pulling him closer, a silent command that left no doubt. JJ caught the fire burning in her gaze and knew this was no longer teasing — she needed everything.

Careful to keep the retractor in place and the dentist’s work uninterrupted, JJ shifted, sliding his hands down to her hips, then lower. His lips trailed from the tender crease of her hip, down along the curve of her thigh — and then, finally, he gave in.

With trembling eagerness, JJ entered her, slow and deliberate at first, grounding her in the warmth and the fierce connection she craved. Anne gasped, the mingled sensations of the drill’s relentless rasp in her mouth and JJ’s deep, steady thrusts below sending waves of intense distraction crashing through her.

Her body arched instinctively, the chaotic tension from the dental chair dissolving into pure, overwhelming need. The sterile room faded, replaced by the raw, urgent rhythm between them — pain and pleasure intertwined, the ultimate escape.

JJ’s body pressed warmly against Anne’s as she lay reclined in the chair, the large Jennings retractor holding her mouth wide open, every vulnerable inch of her teeth exposed. His hands were steady on the old, dull drill, the buzzing sound filling the room as he carefully worked on a fresh lower molar — the dull bur scraping patiently at the decayed surface.

While his hands expertly maneuvered the drill with practiced precision, JJ’s body maintained a deep, intimate connection with Anne’s. His chest pressed to hers, legs tangled with hers beneath the chair, his hips moving rhythmically, matching the tense rise and fall of her breath. He kept his mouth and hands away from her face, letting the drill do its work, but his presence, warmth, and the subtle, steady movement against her body grounded her, distracting her from the raw sting of the drill.

Her eyes fluttered closed, lips parted in a mix of anticipation and relief, the pressure and vibration of the drill balanced against the sensation of JJ’s body moving with hers. Every rasp of the drill was met with the quiet rhythm of their connection, the odd juxtaposition of clinical and intimate merging into a strange but deeply immersive focus.

JJ’s strong chest pressed warmly against Anne’s bare chest, his muscular arms cradling her as they moved in slow, steady rhythm. Beneath them, his rigid erection pressed firmly against her, the heat and pressure a grounding counterpoint to the cold, mechanical buzz of the dull drill in his hands. His fingers gripped the worn handle with surprising precision, expertly guiding the drill bit across the surface of her lower molar.

The buzzing scrape echoed in the small room, but Anne’s mind was less focused on the clinical sound now. JJ’s pelvis moved with her breath, his hips rolling gently, sending waves of warmth and slow-burning pleasure through her body. His hardness pressed low, teasing and soothing the ache that the drill was stirring in her mouth. The contrast between the sharp sensation in her tooth and the deep, intimate connection with JJ’s body blurred her awareness of pain.

Her eyes fluttered shut as the pleasure took root, the tension in her jaw loosening despite the retractor holding her lips wide. The gentle motion of JJ’s hips against her clothed core, combined with his protective hold, soothed her anxiety and dulled the edge of the drilling.

A soft moan slipped from Anne’s throat, her body responding to the quiet, steady rhythm beneath her. JJ’s hands continued their work with steady determination, the careful drill marks blending with the pulsing beat of pleasure radiating through her. The distraction was powerful — the combination of sensation and comfort transforming the clinical ordeal into something almost bearable.

The dull drill’s buzzing suddenly shifted—a sharper scrape against the enamel, deeper than before. JJ’s hands tensed just slightly, the vibration transmitting through his fingers as the bit pressed into a more sensitive patch of Anne’s lower molar.

Anne’s body stiffened involuntarily, a sharp, stabbing ache radiating through her jaw. Her breath hitched, a brief gasp caught in her throat behind the mouth retractor. JJ’s hips faltered for a moment, concern flickering in his eyes, but his arms tightened around her, grounding her.

His rigid length pressed firmly against her lower back, the warmth there pulsing against her skin like a silent promise of comfort. Slowly, with a gentle shift of his weight and a whisper of movement, JJ increased their intimate rhythm just enough—slow, deliberate—sending a rush of heat through Anne’s nerves, trying to override the sting from the drill.

Her eyelids fluttered, the sharp pain now riding alongside a growing flood of warmth and distraction. She bit down softly on the plastic retractor, fighting tears, while JJ’s steady, deep connection kept her anchored, pushing her past the ache.

JJ’s erection pressed firmly against Anne’s lower back, its hardness undeniable and growing more insistent as the intensity of the moment deepened. The sharpness of the drill’s bite, coupled with Anne’s tensing body and muffled gasps, stirred a potent mix of protectiveness and desire in him. His length pulsed subtly in time with their movements, responsive to the tension and the vulnerable, raw closeness they shared amid the clinical chaos.

The contrast—the cold, mechanical drill invading Anne’s mouth while his warm, living body offered refuge—only heightened his arousal, making the moment electric and impossible to ignore.

Anne’s senses were flooded—pain, pleasure, and overwhelming distraction all tangled together. Amid the sharp sting of the drill pressing deeper, she became faintly aware of JJ’s body shifting against hers, the increasing weight and heat along her back. The subtle, growing pressure wasn’t lost on her; she could feel how his arousal deepened, how his presence pressed closer, grounding her in a way that both surprised and soothed her.

Though her mouth was stretched wide by the retractor and her mind partly focused on the piercing sensations inside her, a flicker of awareness told her that JJ was becoming more eager, more present—an unspoken reassurance amidst the clinical torment.

JJ’s hands, steady despite the unusual setting, reached for the dental explorer. His fingers traced the contours of Anne’s freshly drilled molar with surprising care. The thin, pointed instrument tapped lightly against the enamel, seeking any rough edges or lingering decay.

His eyes narrowed in concentration, watching for the slightest imperfection beneath the harsh clinic lights. Even as their bodies remained entwined, his touch was precise—delicate but deliberate—ensuring the drill had done its work thoroughly.

Anne felt the cool metal of the explorer glide over her tooth, a brief contrast to the warmth of JJ’s body pressed behind her, grounding her in the strange blend of clinical procedure and intimate distraction.

JJ noticed every tiny flinch and shudder that rippled through Anne as he worked the explorer gently over the sensitive spot. Each involuntary reaction sent a surge of heat through him, a potent mix of empathy and desire.

Her subtle gasps and twitching muscles weren’t just signs of discomfort—they were like an electric current feeding his focus, sharpening his attention and igniting something deeper. The way her body responded, vulnerable yet trusting, made every second feel charged, turning the sterile dental chair into an intimate stage where sensation and care intertwined.

He found himself craving more of those small reactions, knowing they tethered them closer even as he navigated the fine line between pain, relief, and pleasure.

JJ’s grip tightened on the tool as he leaned forward, guiding the explorer deeper into Anne’s exposed tooth. Every rasp of metal on tender dentin sent a jolt through her, and he felt it vividly—each tiny shudder of her body pressing back against his throbbing cock.

With deliberate intent, he sank the full shaft of his erection into her slick, quivering cunt, burying himself as deep as she would allow. The heat and wetness enveloped him, driving home a raw, urgent pleasure that mirrored the sharp sting of the drill. His free hand pressed gently at her jaw, keeping her mouth perfectly still even as the retractor bit into her lips.

He rocked his hips in time with the drill’s whine—slow, powerful thrusts that drove him deeper into her core while the bur ground mercilessly at her tooth. Anne’s muffled moans and trembling flinches only spurred him on, each twitch against his cock pulsing pleasure straight to his spine.

As the explorer probed further into the cavity, JJ increased his pace, pistoning into her with measured force. The contrast was electric: the clinical scrape in her mouth and the overwhelming fullness she felt below. Anne’s breath caught in a raw gasp, body arching into him, and JJ held her tight, matching drill depth with an even deeper, more possessive push of his hips—driving them both toward a fierce, shared edge.

JJ shifted his hips so the drill handpiece hovered in one hand, but he never pulled all the way free. His rigid cock remained buried deep inside Anne’s dripping core—its tight heat and wet slickness a constant, grounding presence. With the other hand, he flicked the drill on, its dull whine filling the charged air.

He steadied the bur against the base of her lower molar, guiding it with deliberate care even as each piston of his hips pressed him further into her warmth. The drill scraped at her tooth, a harsh, vibrating rasp that sent tremors through her jaw—and through the length of his cock. Anne’s thighs fluttered around him, the dual sensations of intense drilling and relentless thrusts merging into one overwhelming haze.

His free hand gripped her hair at the nape of her neck, gently tilting her head to give a clearer angle, while his drilling hand probed deeper into the decayed enamel. Each rotation of the bur was met with a matching press of his groin, driving him home again and again.

Anne’s muffled moans turned into shaky gasps, the retractor keeping every sound raw and echoing. Her body arched into him, drawing him deeper, and JJ answered with measured, commanding thrusts—pleasure and pain blended so tightly that every scrape of the drill sparked an electric pulse through both their bodies.

He circled the bur precisely, clearing away every last trace of decay, never breaking the connection between them. JJ’s hips moved in perfect rhythm with the drill’s rasp, ensuring Anne’s focus stayed split between the clinical sting in her mouth and the fierce, grounding fullness that flooded her core.

When he finally powered down the handpiece, he let the silence hang for a moment, cock still buried, chest pressed to hers. Anne trembled in release and relief, every nerve alive from the unrelenting intimacy and the sharp finish of the drilling. JJ dipped his head to whisper against her ear, voice thick with shared breath.

“We’re not done yet,” he murmured, sliding the explorer back into place as he readied for the next pass—his body still claiming hers as the drill whined to life once more.

JJ’s eyes flickered with a dark spark as he heard Anne’s moans—soft, ragged, raw. He chose to hear them as something other than pain: the gasps of pleasure his own touch was coaxing from her, the sounds of her surrender to him.

With deliberate slowness, he pressed the drill deeper into the decayed tooth, the bur grinding mercilessly closer to the nerve. The vibration grew sharper, the scraping harsher, but JJ’s hips kept a steady, rhythmic thrust, matching the drill’s relentless dance.

Anne’s breath hitched, a mixture of sharp sting and heated sensation flooding her senses. He leaned down, whispering huskily, “You’re doing so well... just relax into it.”

His free hand slid down her side, fingers tracing heated paths as if to reassure her—while the drill bit burrowed deeper, probing that tender nerve, pushing boundaries with every grind.

The contrast of pleasure and pain twisted tighter, and JJ’s cock pulsed harder inside her, fueled by her every flinch and moan, convinced that the torment was turning to delight in her mind.

He was the master of this moment, blurring the line between hurt and ecstasy, driving her—and himself—higher into that fierce, forbidden edge.

As the drill bit ground mercilessly deeper, Anne’s breath hitched, her body trembling on the edge of unbearable sensation. Every nerve felt aflame, every pulse sharp and electric. Her hands clenched the armrests, knuckles white, eyes fluttering shut—teetering on the brink of breaking.

JJ felt it too—the tight coil within him snapping, a wave of hot release building impossibly fast. His hips stilled for a moment, then surged forward in one final, deep thrust, the pressure of his body pressing her firmly into the chair.

Anne’s moan shattered the air, raw and primal, a perfect storm of pain and pleasure crashing over her in one explosive wave. Her back arched, every muscle taut as she surrendered completely, riding that fierce edge into trembling release.

JJ felt the tension in Anne’s body snap tighter with every pulse of the drill, her eyes wide with a mix of pain and desperate need. His own arousal had only grown deeper, fueled by the helplessness in her flinches and the tight grip she had on the chair’s arms.

The drill’s rasp grew louder, angling closer to the sensitive nerve, and Anne’s breath hitched sharply. JJ’s hands steadied, but inside, he was trembling with desire.

Suddenly, he eased the drill back slightly, his touch softening as he whispered, “Almost done, baby.” His hips shifted, still pressing into her, but slowly pulling away from the raw sensitivity of the dental procedure.

Anne’s eyes searched his, silently begging for release beyond the numbing pain. JJ nodded, understanding perfectly.

With one careful motion, he withdrew the drill entirely, setting it aside on the tray. His hands moved to gently cradle her jaw, lifting her head slightly. His mouth descended, capturing hers in a slow, deep kiss that flooded her senses.

As their mouths parted, JJ shifted down, lowering himself so that his rigid length aligned with her parted lips, still open from the large mouth retractor. Her eyes fluttered closed as he pressed gently forward.

Without hesitation, Anne welcomed him fully, her throat enveloping him with a mix of need and relief. JJ’s hips rocked lightly, synchronizing with the ebb of the drill’s absence. Every movement was slow and deliberate, a perfect balance of passion and tenderness.

Her soft moans, a mix of gratitude and pleasure, filled the room—drowned out only by the faint hum of the dental light and the sterile scent surrounding them.

At last, JJ’s breath hitched, his body tense, and with a final slow thrust, he released deep inside her mouth. Anne swallowed instinctively, her eyes shining with trust and connection.

They stayed like that for a moment—her lips still closed around him, his hands cradling her face—before JJ gently withdrew, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The dentist, watching from a respectful distance, cleared his throat softly, signaling it was time to finish the appointment.

Anne blinked, still riding the aftershocks of pleasure mixed with residual dental sting. JJ gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently.

“You did amazing,” he murmured