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My doctor just prescribed me a vibrator.
No, I'm not kidding.
I finally worked up the nerve to ask for medical help with my inability to, ahem, peak.
The worst part?
He's drop dead gorgeous. And by that I mean I'm about to drop dead from sheer embarrassment.
My only saving grace is that once I walk out of his office, I'll never have to see him again.
Ha.
Just kidding.
That new client I just bagged? The one whose gorgeous home I've been hired to sell?
Yep. It's the man who now knows which device I use when I'm all alone and feeling frisky.
But that's okay! I can be a professional, and so can he.
The problem is, I'm not sure either of us want to...
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