Poppy spices things up by dressing up as a nurse with Branch as her patient.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Branch. Thank you for being on time for your appointment today. Another symptom presenting itself.” Hands on Branch's waist, Poppy pushed him gently through the door to their bedroom.
“Ok? What?” Branch knew it was coming sometime, but The pop queen was always successful at catching her lover off guard most of the time.
“Yes. I’ve been ordered to run tests on you. We need to get this figured out. You are--- too perfect for no reason at all and it's a serious problem that needs to be solved ASAP!”
“Too perfect?” Branch asks, distracted momentarily by Poppy's nurse costume from last Halloween that he thinks looks too perfect on her. It’ll have to tide him over; Poppy won’t tell him what this year’s costume is. It’s ok, Branch likes her surprises.
Flipping through fake documents, empty papers in Poppy's clipboard, “Yes. Indeed. We think you may have had this problem your entire life; only it’s intensifying as you grow.” Poppy's eyes can’t help but dart to his crotch showcased nicely in his usual attire.
Branch stares blankly at her checking her out in the process. “Wow. This is going to be fun. This nurse costume is still-” Poppy can hear his breathing begin to change, “everything a boy could dream of.”
Moving Branch to the oversized rocking chair, Poppy pulled over for the scene, Poppy says, “Branch. I need you to sit down. I promise I’ll have you feeling better in no time.”
It’s always nice to be able to believe in Poppy's care providers. There’s no doubt in Branch's mind about Poppy's ability to deliver on this.
“Need to gather some patient history. When was the last time you touched yourself?” Poppy peers over the papers, curious to what his answer would be, beginning to doodle a giant dick across the sheet.
“Nurse, are all of your questions going to embarrass me?” Branch asks with a nervous chuckle, examining his knuckles that lighten from his tight grip over the arms.
“Are you willing to follow orders? Do whatever is necessary to improve?” Angrily, Poppy's pen scratches away. It gets to Branch. He doesn’t know she's only adding pubes.
Branch likes the sharp edge in Poppy's voice. He likes things sharp. Brains, tongues, tips, let them cut.
“Last night. I touched myself last night,” Branch confesses, bracing for a slap of some sort, literal or figurative.
Instead, Poppy layed out a crisp white sheet on the floor and let his eyes feast on the globes of her ass, bending herself in half at the hips unnecessarily to make a statement.
“Was this before or after fucking me?” Poppy asked with playful coarseness.
“Before,” Branch wonders if he’s sweating but can’t find it in himself to move his extremities to check his brow. They might as well be glued down until he’s told to move. “But I thought about you the whole time, I swear! I wanted to last longer for you. I just got the ‘too excitable first round’ out of the way,” Branch tacks on in full honesty, leaning forward in his chair.
“So even when you were touching yourself, you were doing it for me?” Poppy lets her hands trace her figure, accentuated nicely by the costume, it hugging the right spots, lifting her chest that practically bursts out of the top.
“Yes,” Branch nods excitedly like a bobblehead at full speed.
“Too perfect.” Poppy click her tongue. “So sensitive, too. Clothes off for the next portion of your exam, Sir.”
Poppy trying to put her feelings away watching Branch lose his clothes as fast as he can, but it’s too hard, his dick that is. Poppy turns around to hide her bit-swollen lips and regain composure for the next parts.
From the table, Poppy picked up an instrument and place it on Branch's thigh to warm up and tease. A Wartenberg wheel, it’s bright stainless steel, with spikes to roll over skin created for testing nerve reactions, but it’s now a fun part of play with Branch. It doesn’t take much pressure at all to have him leaping with excitement.
