For a few months, I have had a patient in the Bois de l'Aune, one of the best known housing estates in the Pays d'Aix.Every evening, when I have finished Robert's treatments, I go home directly. Regularly, on leaving my patient's apartment, I have to step over a short, shorn-haired, very dull-skinned man, still in a tracksuit, seated on the ground, leaning against the wall and his sneakers against the opposite wall.Every day I meet him I have to break through his private sphere to walk along the hallway to the stairs. Every day he's there, my package passes over his head and my sneakers almost rub his.Every day I step over him, he doesn't flinch, doesn't say anything and looks at me.Every day my balls pass him I look at his sneakers and tell myself that I would take them off him.Each day when my sneakers brush against his package, I tell myself that I would put my foot between his thighs….Every day that...One day, when I lay my eyes on these feet: -hey man, what are you doing here?-I'm going home, I'm finished… -Dude, you come, my leg hurts -I mean?- You're giving me a bandage, I'm in pain… - OK, show me… - We're going to my house…I wasn't sure what was going on but I tried to be very professional and couldn't help but lay my eyes on his ass when he got up and walked to his door. I noticed he was limping slightly and figured he was probably being sincere. I am always suspicious in this kind of situation. I follow him to the end of the corridor.I cross the door of a small apartment, rather messy and dark. A fairly strong smell of cigarettes hits my nose, I follow it in the only living room-bedroom... In addition to the smell of tobacco, my neurons panicked when they detected the scent of socks, trainers, boxers that littered the ground, smells of endless handjobs, enough to fuel my fantasies. In my job, I'm used to this kind of thing. But this was different and I couldn't describe it, but my heart was racing and I was sweating in the panties.He throws himself on the edge of ...

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