I’m Dr. Jackson, sitting at my desk finishing notes when Hazel walks in for her “follow-up appointment.”

She’s wearing the tiniest white crop top that’s like two sizes smaller that barely holds her fat tits and a pink pleated skirt so short I can already see the bottom of her juicy perfect round ass cheeks.

No panties. She knows exactly what she’s here for.

Her long black hair is in a high ponytail, gold hoops swinging as she walks toward me.

“Hey Doctor Jackson,” she ...