Consensual Census

Spa boss India Summer's locking up for the night when Codey Steele from the census bureau raps on the door. She's about to slam it in his face, but he begs with those puppy-dog eyes for just five minutes on a survey. Kid's a student scraping by on commissions—how's a hot MILF like her gonna say no to that charm? India rolls her eyes, supreme annoyance bubbling, but waves the polite punk inside. She leads him to the bathroom, plops down on the tub's edge where she's already drawn a steamy bath, and dives into the questionnaire. Answering his boring questions, India shrugs off her robe, peels away every lacy bit of her sexy lingerie—bra, panties, the works. There she stands, buck naked and owning it, before slipping into the tub with a splash. 'Hurry it up,' she snaps, impatience dripping like the water. Codey stammers it's only five more minutes. India smirks—oh, yeah? Fine, but only if he takes her specialty massage. Deal sealed with a wicked grin. She yanks off his stuffy suit, strips him down to nothing, and orders him face-down on the mat. Grabs a fistful of that slick NURU gel, drizzles it over his back like liquid sin, then slides her bare body all over his backside, grinding and gliding till he's squirming. Flips him over—bam, he's shyly cupping his dick like it's a state secret. India laughs, low and naughty. 'Aw, cute. Let me fix that.' She dives in, guzzles his cock deep, slurping till it's throbbing rock-hard, veins popping with need. Not wasting a beat, she climbs on, slides that stiff shaft right into her tight, wet pussy. Rides him like a pro, chasing her own fireworks first—moaning as she clenches and cums hard. Then she milks every drop from him, fucking the cum right out in a hot, messy explosion. Kid's in heaven, and India's calling the shots.