An Undercover Cop

Eric struts into the Soapy Massage Parlor for his appointment, flashing a grin at his masseuse Callie. He leans in close and spills the beans on his last visit—how he scored some top-shelf action, all on the house, 'cause the girl didn't fancy a night in the slammer. With a cocky wink, he flips open his badge. Callie's eyes widen, but she nods quick—yeah, she'll hook him up with another freebie. They slip into the private room, where she peels off her clothes like it's no big deal, then drags him into the steamy shower. No way she's risking a bust, so she drops to her knees right there, wrapping her lips around his cock while he kicks back on the stool, letting the water pound down. She works him good, sucking steady and deep, her tongue swirling like she means business. Once he's all lathered up in her mouth, she hauls him over to the slick mattress, slathering them both in thick soapy bubbles that make everything glide like silk. She mounts him smooth, sliding her wet body up and down his, tits pressing firm against his chest, ass grinding teasingly close. Her hands roam south, stroking his throbbing cock with a naughty twist, fingers teasing the tip just to drive him wild. Then she grabs a splash of water, rinses his dick clean—gotta get that soap out—and dives back in, sucking him like her freedom depends on it. Eric fixes her with a hard stare, voice low: 'You wanna end up in jail?' Hell no, she doesn't, so she ramps it up, stroking and slurping his cock fast and furious, hands pumping, mouth devouring every inch till he can't hold back. He explodes, blasting his hot cum all over her face and tits, marking her like the boss he is. So, is Eric the real deal—a badge-carrying cop—or just some slick hustler who cracked the ultimate scam to get his rocks off for free?