In the sterile, cold confines of a hospital room, a woman lay in her bed. Her name was Marianne, a striking figure with long, wavy chestnut hair that cascaded down her shoulders. She was in her early thirties, her body lithe and slender, with small but perky breasts that were taut against her chest. The hospital gown did little to hide her modesty, leaving her petite figure exposed from the front.
Marianne had been in the hospital for a few days now, recovering from a minor surgery. Her husband, a burly man with a thick beard, had been by her side throughout, but he had to leave for work that morning.
As the day went on, the hospital room grew quiet, the only sounds were the soft beeping of the machines and the distant murmur of the nurses’ footsteps outside. It was in this moment of solitude that a tall, slender figure entered the room.
Dr. Samuel, a young and handsome doctor, had been assigned to Marianne’s case. He was in his late twenties, with short, cropped dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His white lab coat concealed his toned physique, but Marianne couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was.
