Back From Cuba

Marco touched down fresh from Cuba, totally clueless about this new city buzzing around him. Travel stress hitting hard, he figures a massage'll melt it away. Spots this spot, struts in, and bam—meets Callie, all smiles, swearing she'll loosen him up good. She leads him upstairs, gets to work kneading those tense shoulders and back like a pro. But Marco's got that cocky glint; he asks if there's a special kind of rubdown on the menu. Callie plays coy—says some girls do the extras, but not her. He flashes his card, tells her to slap any upcharge on it, no sweat. Boom, her tune flips faster than a bad bet. Clothes fly off in a frenzy, and she's buck-naked, diving straight for his cock, lips wrapping around it tight. She climbs on, grinding wild, sucking him deep while dragging her tits and slick body all over that hard shaft—pure filthy heaven. Then she spins into a hot 69, shoving her tender pussy right onto his face. He laps at it hungry, sucks that swollen clit like it's his last meal, while she throats every inch of him down to the balls. Marco's edging close, balls tight and ready. He yanks his cock free, strokes it fierce, and unloads rope after hot rope straight into her pretty little mouth, watching her swallow it all with a wicked grin.