Troubled Neighbor

Eric storms up to the Nuru massage parlor door, face twisted like he just bit into a lemon. India swings it open, all smiles, and hits him with, 'Password, handsome?' He blurts out he's the guy next door, pissed off because some jerk's always hogging his parking spot when he drags home from work, and the damn cars keep rolling in and out all night. India pouts, sorry as hell, then flashes him a free massage on the house—her way of smoothing things over, long as he keeps the cops out of it. Eric's eyes light up; he nods, and they bolt straight for the showers. No beating around the bush—India drops to her knees and wraps her lips around his cock, sucking him deep right off the bat. Eric's eyes bug out, caught off guard, but damn, he's loving every slick pull and swirl. She pops off just long enough to grin up at him: 'If that blowjob got you this worked up, wait'll you feel what's coming.' She eases him down, starts kneading those tense muscles with her oiled-up hands, then cranks the heat—rubbing her body all over his until they're grinding hard. Before he knows it, she's riding him full tilt, and they fuck like it's the cure for all his bullshit.