下半身のオイルマッサージで欲求不満の人妻が大量潮吹き 本番中出しSEX
Title: The Lecherous Lust of the Massage Parlor: A Cumming of Age MILF
In the sultry third floor of a discrete Tokyo building, an unassuming swinging door leads to the ribald chambers of the local furyu anma – a dodgy massage parlor known for its ‘happy endings’ and the insatiable ‘climaxaphilic’ clientele it caters to. The parlor, Tanuki’s Tavern, was a den of S&M where over-worked housewives and lonely salarymen alike could slake their gnawing carnal cravings.
One sweltering summer afternoon, a strapping, baby-faced young man named Hiro crossed the threshold. He was wound tighter than Ichiro Suzuki’s asshole after a particularly arduous game. His wife, a lithe, ageless beauty named Saori, had been a tad too aloof in the boudoir of late. Hiro needed some ‘friction down below’ and pronto.
The mousy receptionist greeted him with a wry smile and directed him to a dimly lit room. The cloying aroma of jasmine and patchouli permeated the air. A lithe, olive-skinned beauty clad in a white towelle managed to make the traditional yukata look as scandalous as a hot tub bunny’s bikini. She introduced herself as Sachiko – famed for her skillful oil massages and her legendary ‘ lyric ‘.
Sachiko and Hiro made some small talk (is this your first time? – is this your real job? – etc.) before she instructed him to disrobe and lay face down on the massage table. As Hiro slid out of his chinos and briefs, he couldn’t help noticing Sachiko eyeing his firm, ten-centimeter schlong with the lust of a manga artist ogling a censorship bar-free ecchi panel.
“Very impressive, handsome!” Sachiko purred, giving his engorging pecker a mocking but deliberate brush with her avaricious hands. “Now, let’s get you relaxed…”
Hiro lay down, entombed in a towel that was a bit too small for his tall frame, exposing the top of his ass crack and the base of his back. Sachiko began the massage with an almost punishing intensity, her slippery,KNOCKER-studded breasts swinging into his sensitive back as she pummeled the knots of tension from his back and shoulders. After a few minutes, Hiro could feel his schlong swelling and poking through the linen like an impatient Guernica protester.
Without missing a beat, Sachiko reached around and began to expertly stroke Hiro’s eleven-inch wonder. “My my, you’re one handsome, hung punk!” she cooed as she jerked him off with the cuban coitus equivalent of an oeuvre. “You’ll ruin unsuspecting girls like me, you know that?”
Hiro moaned and pleaded with Sachiko to hurry up and climb aboard, a request she was all too happy to oblige. She hooked her thumbs in her towelle and shimmied out of it with the discipline of a superhero removing their costume before switching poses for the camera. “I like a man who knows what he wants,” she smirked, mounting him missionary-style. She planted her hands on his firm pecs and rode his impaling sausage with the single-minded intensity of someone trying to extract the last 10cc’s of cream out of a Kal Kan can.
With each gyratological grind, Hiro felt like his pecker was branching out and discovering new pleasure nerves. In no time flat, he was unloading an industrial quantity of baby batter in Sachiko’s creaming tunnel. “Meow!” she screamed when the first sublimely viscous bolt of batter busted against her cervix, triggering a full-body orgasm. She squirted at the sight of the second hot, heavy load coating her quivering walls. And so onandon…
Post-coital, they lay exhausted in each others arms. “Sachiko-sama, I must confess…” began Hiro. “I’m married…”
Sachiko laughed in his face, a sound with more than a trace of ‘next time you better think of that before stroking your schlong!’ in it. “I know,” she said, “but your fat sack of money at the reception is all the confession I need.”
Hiro left the parlor a happy, sticky boy and donned his chinos. As he walked cheerily back to subway station, his cellphone went off. It was Saori, his wife: “honey, I spent all day cleaning and cooking your favorite meals. I can’t wait until you get home so we can have some alone time!” Hiro winced and inwardly vowed to stay faithful to Saori, for own good of their marriage. But he was only human, and there were times when a MILF needed a missionairy missionary mission, even if it meant having to return to the embrace of the lurid, libidinous arms of the furyu anma at Tanuki’s Tavern.
