Neighbor's Noisy Nuru

Seth's pounding away at his keyboard, but fuck, the racket from upstairs is killing his vibe. Some new neighbor just moved in—haven't even laid eyes on 'em yet—and it's all thumping, moaning chaos. Enough's enough. He bolts up, storms to the door, and hammers on it like he's got a grudge. Door swings open, and bam—Liv Revamped stands there, drop-dead gorgeous in a flimsy robe that's barely hanging on. Seth's jaw damn near hits the floor. He plays it cool, mutters he's the guy below, tries to brush off the noise like it's no big deal. Liv's eyes go wide, she's all apologies, cheeks flushing red as she pulls him inside to spill the beans. Once they're in, she fesses up: runs a nuru massage setup right here in her pad. That's the source of the racket—oiled-up clients getting worked over. She swears she's trying to muffle it, but hey, apologies demand action. She offers him a freebie nuru session. Seth's clueless—what the hell's a nuru massage? She lays it out: slippery, skin-on-skin gliding, her bare body slathering lube all over his, teasing every inch with slow, sinful strokes. He's flustered as hell, cheeks burning, but hell yeah, he's in. Clothes hit the floor. Liv's naked curves press against him, sliding and grinding with that slick gel making everything glide like a wet dream. Tension builds fast—muscles tense, breaths hitch. Looks like they're about to crank up the volume and give the neighbors a taste of their own medicine.