Making An Exception

Khloe Kapri saunters through the door of the massage parlor, all grins and sparkle, heading straight for the reception desk where Mick Blue waits with a knowing smirk. She's flirty as hell, outgoing with that polite edge, and she digs into her purse like she's hunting treasure. Out comes a printed coupon for half off a massage, and she slides it over with a wink. Mick's eyes soften as he checks it, then hands it back with a sorry shrug. 'Bad news, gorgeous—this promo's kaput.' Khloe pouts like a pro, those lips begging for mercy, then bats her lashes up at him. 'Oh nooo! I had no clue... Come on, isn't there a way? Just this once? I dragged myself all the way here.' She's laying on the charm thick, batting eyes that could melt steel. Mick plays along, flashing a grin. 'For a stunner like you? Hell yeah, I can bend the rules.' Khloe squeals, pure joy, and plants a warm hand on his arm. 'You're the sweetest!' He guides her to the massage table, steps back like a gentleman, but damn, he's stealing glances at her killer curves in the mirror—subtle, but he's busted in his own head. She strips down and stretches out on the table, ready. Mick pours oil over her skin, slick and warm, and starts kneading her body with firm strokes. Khloe purrs, 'Hey, hit my lower back and hips hard—tension's killing me there.' No complaints from Mick. He dives in, hands sliding lower to that juicy ass, gripping and squeezing like he owns it. Khloe moans low, the sound straight fire. Things heat up quick—his fingers inch toward her pussy, teasing the edges, and she's gasping, body twisting with raw need. 'Flip for me,' he says, voice husky. She rolls onto her back, and he works her front, tracing every curve of that flawless frame. He hits her perky tits, thumbs circling those pierced nipples, and she arches up, lost in the bliss. Then Khloe locks eyes, smirking. 'You were such a gent with that discount... Let me pay you back proper. What's a girl gotta do?' Her hands snake toward his crotch, bold and teasing. He doesn't pull away—hell, he groans into it—but mutters, 'You sure about this?' 'Absolutely,' she fires back, fingers working him. 'Khloe loves when a nice guy scores the prize for once.'