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Taylor walked into the massage parlor like she already owned the place. Mia skimmed her resume, then leaned back and said they needed to see if she could really get into the work—audition style. Taylor nodded, followed her down the hall, stripped when Mia told her to, and hopped onto the table face down. Mia got right to it, rubbing oil into her shoulders, working down her spine, showing her which muscles needed the most attention. Soon enough those hands moved to her tits, squeezing and circling like this was just part of the service. The touch drifted lower, fingers slipping between her lips, circling her clit with lazy, confident strokes. Taylor’s brain caught up a second late. Was this still a massage? Her pussy didn’t seem to care. Mia pushed her legs apart, dropped to her knees, and started licking—slow, firm, no hesitation. Taylor grabbed the sides of the table and tried to stay quiet, but the way Mia sucked her clit made her whole body jerk. She felt the orgasm crash in fast, hot, legs shaking as she came hard against Mia’s tongue, eyes rolled back, noises spilling out like she’d forgotten how to be shy. When it was done Mia wiped her mouth, told her she passed. Taylor lay there panting, grin stretching across her face. She couldn’t wait to clock in.