My First Client

Damon's a wrecked guy after that bike crash—his dick's been on strike, ignoring every pill thrown at it. He shows up at the Milking Table, desperate for some real therapy. Enter Melissa May, the fresh-faced masseuse who's about to flip his world. She's all shy glances and soft words, but she locks eyes with him and swears she'll coax that cock back to life. She strips him down slow, no rush. He's blushing like a schoolboy, but she grins and says, 'Hey, this is just the drill—relax.' Naked on the table, he lies there while she works her hands over his skin, kneading every tense muscle with that sweet, focused touch. Boom—miracle time. His dick perks up, hard and ready, proving her magic's already kicking in. Melissa beams, all proud, then leans in: 'Mind if I suck it? Promise it'll feel amazing.' Damon's lighting up, finally chasing that rush he's missed. But oops—newbie slip-up. She forgot the flip. 'Sorry, stud,' she laughs, 'roll over so I can finish the job right.' Face down, cock poking through the hole, she dives in, lips wrapping tight. 'This thing's got me hot,' she confesses, voice husky. 'Can I touch myself while I work you?' She's obsessed, no holding back—deep-throating him like it's her new favorite game, that thick shaft hitting the back of her throat with every eager bob. She urges him on, 'Cum for me, big guy, fill my mouth.' And he does, blasting a huge load right down her throat. Damon's hooked, books her for next week on the spot. Damn, for a first-timer, she owned that session like a pro—naughty and nailed it.