School Teacher's Secret

Seth steps into this little massage joint looking to break a twenty for the parking meter and freezes when he clocks his kid's teacher behind the counter. India’s eyes go wide. Neither of them knows where to look. He starts asking what she’s doing slumming it here. She tries to dodge the whole conversation, cheeks burning, stammering about making rent. Seth inches closer. Hot little thing, he has to admit. Son’s favorite teacher and now he gets why. She begs him to keep the secret. Says it’s already mortifying, no need to blow up her world. Seth lets the quiet hang for a beat, then smiles like the devil in street clothes: only way he keeps his mouth shut is if she lathers him down—naked, oily, full-body NURU. She curses under her breath but nods. Clothes come off, warm oil glistens, and pretty soon the teacher’s rubbing every inch of herself across his back, tits gliding, thighs squeezing. Seth’s on his stomach, hard as a rock, and India takes charge. One second she’s massaging, the next she’s face-down in his lap, lips around his cock, slurping greedy and loud. Another blink and she’s straddling him, sinking that slick cunt down until she’s riding with smooth, dirty rhythm, moaning louder each time her ass slaps his hips. By the time she’s shaking through her own orgasm she’s not worried about the secret—she’s just thanking him for the solid tip.