Picture this: Zac Wild, sprawled on his couch, eyes glued to his phone, oblivious to the world. Suddenly, the doorbell chimes, interrupting his digital trance. Who could it be? He grumbles, hauling himself up to answer the door. Standing there, a vision of unexpected delight—Jane Wilde, armed with her portable NURU massage kit. Zac, still distracted, barely glances up as he gruffly inquires about her purpose. "Are you Billy?" she asks innocently. "No, he's not home," Zac snaps, already moving to close the door. But wait! Jane mentions a free massage, and just like that, Zac's attitude flips. His eyes dart up, taking in the beautiful masseuse at his doorstep. Oh, the power of a simple phrase! "Free massage," he echoes, his mood instantly brightening. He's Billy now, or so he claims, eagerly inviting her in. What a performance shift! In the living room, they chat. Is Jane a full-time masseuse? Not quite, she's a medical student, massaging to pay her way through school. Zac's impressed, and they bond over pushy parents and unfulfilled expectations. The tension in the room begins to morph, becoming something more... intriguing. Jane suggests they start, asking Zac to lead her to the shower. His surprise is evident—a shower? Together? His eyes flicker, taking in her form. Yes, she explains, it's part of the NURU experience. Professional, of course. Zac plays along, feigning ignorance, but his eyes betray his excitement. "I must not have read very clearly," he lies, leading her to the bathroom. Oh, the anticipation! In the bathroom, clothes shed, and they step into the shower. Jane begins to soap him up, her touch professional yet intimate. Zac can't help but comment on her skill, her touch. She presses against him, her breasts against his back, as she cleans his most intimate areas. The atmosphere shifts, charged with something electric. Zac turns to face her, his body responding to her touch. "Sometimes, you can push... too hard," he murmurs, suggesting she do what she wants, not what others expect. The moment stretches, tense and full of possibility. Jane bites her lip, her eyes lingering on his body. Snapping out of it, she abruptly tells him it's time to rinse off, to continue the massage in the living room. But the seed of temptation has been planted. Back in the living room, Jane sets up the mat, pours oil on Zac, and begins her dance. Her body slides against his, their skin slick with oil. Zac dares to ask, "What would your dad think of this?" Jane's response is coy, "As long as I'm getting the job done." But her eyes tell a different story, flickering to his hardness. He sees her looking and asks, "Is there any other job you want to do right now?" She resists, ever the professional. But for how long? Face to face, body to body, Zac's hands wander, cupping her ass. This time, she doesn't stop him. "Don't you want to, just once... do something... wrong?" he whispers. And with that, she relents. Their lips meet, and she takes him in her hand, then her mouth, reveling in the rebellion. The temptation proves too great, and soon, she's riding him, wild and free, letting herself go completely. If it feels this good to be bad, why not take control more often? Their performance is electric, a dance of temptation and surrender. From the interruption of the doorbell to the climax of their passion, every moment builds on the last, every touch and whisper a step deeper into their illicit dance. Will Jane embrace her rebellious side? Will Zac find satisfaction in his deceit? Their bodies entwined, they write their story, one touch at a time. Don't miss a second of this tantalizing tale—expect the unexpected, and so much more!
