Nuru Trial by Fire

Billy’s idiot boss ducked the big presentation and left him holding the sack, then waltzed out for Dodger sunshine while Billy sweated under the lights. By five o’clock he was a knot of nerves, ready to drown his misery at the Nuru house people kept whispering about. Inside the lobby he traded his card for a fluffy towel and stepped into a dim room where Kaya, slick head-to-toe with glossy oil, waited barefoot on a plastic-covered mattress. The moment she noticed him, a grin split her face; she grabbed his wrist and yanked him down. Clothes vanished fast—shirt tossed, slacks kicked aside, briefs peeking with proof his nerves had officially surrendered. Kaya slid forward on her knees, her breasts heavy with glistening oil, and pressed every bare inch of herself to him in slow, deliberate strokes. Friction gave way to wet heat when she rolled her hips over his cock, letting the length slip along her slit, teasing the head against her swelling clit each time she rocked. She caught his wrists and pinned them over his head, her oiled belly gliding over his chest as she slid up, let her nipples drag across his mouth, then descended again until her dripping mound settled right over his shaft. With a low laugh she began to ride the length of him between her thighs, never letting him slip inside, just rubbing and grinding until every inch was painted in oil and precum. Billy twitched beneath her, hips jerking whenever her folds parted just enough to swallow the crown and then swallowed it back out. After a dozen greedy passes she leaned forward, licked a bead of sweat from his temple, and whispered she could take him inside whenever he asked nice. His answering moan was answer enough.