NURU House Call

Zac's chilling on his couch, thumbing through his phone like it's glued to his hand. Ding-dong—the doorbell buzzes, and he mutters under his breath about the damn interruption. He drags himself up, swings the door open, still glued to that screen. There stands Jane Wilde, all confident with her portable NURU kit in tow. Zac barely glances up, grumbling, 'What do you want?' 'You Billy?' she asks, eyeing him. 'Nah, he's not here,' he snaps, already shoving the door shut in her face without a real look. 'Aw, bummer,' Jane says quick, 'I was here to give him that free massage.' Free massage? Zac freezes mid-shut, door creaking back open as he finally looks up. Holy shit, a smoking hot masseuse right on his doorstep—his scowl flips to a grin faster than a bad bet. 'Whoa, sorry babe, all these pushy sales dudes got me paranoid. Fake name habit. Yeah, I'm Billy!' Total bullshit, but it rolls off easy. Jane chuckles, buys it, plays along with a polite laugh. He waves her inside like he's hosting the party of the year. They head to the living room, chatting light. 'You do this full-time?' Zac asks, plopping on the couch and patting the spot next to him. She's perched there now, close enough to tease. 'Nah, studying to be a doc,' she says, 'massages pay the bills for med school.' Impressed, he nods. 'Damn, that's grind—takes real fire to hack it as a doctor. Gotta want it bad.' 'Yeah,' she admits, 'but it wasn't my dream at first. Dad shoved me toward it young.' Zac leans in. 'I get that. My old man's the same—says if I'm not lawyering like him, he's cutting me off. Brutal.' 'Heavy load,' Jane says, eyes softening. 'Guess that's why you booked this massage—to shake it off, huh?' Bright as hell, she winks. Time to roll, she says, hopping up. 'Lead me to your shower?' Zac blinks, thrown—shower? For a massage? She lays it out smooth: NURU starts wet, gets you clean before the slick slide. 'So... I shower? With you?' He can't peel his eyes off her cleavage, that tease of curves begging for trouble. 'Yup, all pro,' she shoots back, smirking. 'Didn't you check the site when you snagged the NURU deal?' Liar mode on: 'Must've skimmed it—sounds perfect though. I'm feeling filthy as hell.' Lust drips from his voice as he guides her out, hips swaying with promise. Bathroom door clicks shut. 'Strip and hop in,' Jane tells him. Zac peels off quick, steps under the spray. Behind him, her clothes hit the floor—rustle of fabric, then she's there, naked and bold. She lathers him up, hands gliding over his chest, back, everywhere. 'You're damn good at this,' he groans, water steaming around them. 'Dad always said do it right or don't bother,' she replies, soaping lower. 'Your body's killer, by the way.' Her bare tits mash against his back, warm and soft, as she works his dick—clinical wash, no tease, just thorough. 'Thanks—old man drilled fitness into me young.' 'Mine too,' she says, hands steady, 'but hell, I'm glad. Gave me the edge to crush it.' Still soaping that cock, now it's twitching hard under her fingers. Her eyes go wide—appreciative, hungry even—as she handles the full, throbbing length. Zac spins to face her, water cascading. 'Sure, but push too hard... and it backfires.' He locks eyes. 'Time you chased what you want, not Daddy's script.' She nudges him back a touch, but damn, her gaze drops to that rock-hard dick, lingering like it's candy. Tongue flicks her lips—subtle, but electric. He's devouring her curves, tits perky, ass tight, tension thick as the steam. Long beat hangs, her biting that lip hard. Snap—she blinks it off. 'Rinse time. Massage waits in the living room.' Abrupt, businesslike. Back in the living room, she unrolls the mat, air thick with what-ifs. 'On your stomach.' He drops down, she drizzles oil—warm, slippery—then straddles, rubbing deep, body sliding slick over his. 'What'd your dad say about this gig?' Zac probes, voice muffled. 'If I nail the job, he'd nod approval.' Flip over, she commands. He does, cock standing proud like a flagpole. She's staring again, can't hide it. He catches her, grins cocky. 'See something you wanna handle?' 'Just here for the massage,' she says, eyes darting away. 'Pro through and through. Anything else? Nah, not right.' 'You've always played it straight,' he fires back, 'Daddy's good girl rules.' They're inches apart now, her oiled body gliding face-to-face, heat building. 'Gotta obey him every time?' His hands slide down, cupping that firm ass—bold grab. She freezes but doesn't shove. 'Ever wanna... just once... go rogue? Do wrong?' Whisper's gravelly, tempting. Jane cracks—lunges in, lips crashing on his, hand wrapping his cock tight. She drops low, mouth devouring him in a sloppy, rebel blowjob—savoring the sin like forbidden fruit. But fuck, temptation wins quick. She's up, straddling, guiding that thick cock into her wet pussy with a gasp. Rides him wild, hips bucking like she's breaking free—abandon total, tits bouncing. If bad feels this fucking electric, hell yeah, she'll grab the reins more often.