Stunning Mixed Lightskinned Maid Has No Problem Squirting On BBC Of Client

The doorbell rang, echoing through the palatial estate of Mr. Weston, a wealthy, divorced businessman with a penchant for the finer things in life. Among them, the most desired of all – a stunning mixed-race maid, light-skinned with tantalizing curves, and an insatiable appetite for pleasure. Her name was Nala.

As Nala padded down the marble staircase, her high heels click-clacking against the cold stone, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander. Mr. Weston had requested her presence in his private chambers this afternoon, and she knew exactly what that meant – a session of unbridled passion and debauchery.

She arrived at the door, knock knock, and entered, finding Mr. Weston lounging on his opulent king-sized bed, already naked. His BBC, as Nala called it, was standing at full attention, ready for action.

“Nala, my dear. I’ve been waiting for you,” Mr. Weston purred, his eyes roving over her curvaceous form, barely constrained by the skimpy maid uniform she was wearing.

Nala didn’t waste any time. She sauntered over to the bed, her hips swaying sensually with every step. She climbed onto the mattress, crawling on her hands and knees towards him, her perfect round ass raised in the air tantalizingly.

“Mmm, I know what you want, Master,” she purred, her voice dripping with desire. “You want me to serve you, to please you in every way possible.”

She reached out and wrapped her delicate hand around his thick, hard BBC, stroking it slowly. Mr. Weston groaned, his eyes closing in bliss. Nala knew just how to touch him, how to tease him until he was begging for her.

She leaned down, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of his BBC, swirling around the sensitive head. Then, without warning, she took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his thick girth. She bobbed her head up and down, taking him deeper and deeper with each movement.

Mr. Weston’s hands tangled in her hair, guiding her movements. He thrust his hips up, driving his BBC deeper into her hot, wet mouth. Nala could feel him pulsing, could taste the faint saltiness of his pre-cum on her tongue.

But she wasn’t about to let him cum, not yet. She pulled away, leaving him gasping and wanting. She stood up on the bed, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. Beneath it, she was wearing a tiny thong, already damp with her arousal.

She turned around, bending over so that her ass was in Mr. Weston’s face. She wiggled it invitingly, the thin fabric of her thong disappearing between her cheeks.

“Mmm, Master, do you like what you see?” she teased, looking back at him over her shoulder. “Do you want to see more?”

Mr. Weston didn’t hesitate. He reached out and yanked her thong aside, his fingers immediately seeking out her wet, aching folds. He stroked her, teasing her, making her moan and writhe against his touch.

Then, without warning, he plunged two fingers deep inside her, making her cry out in pleasure. He pumped them in and out, his thumb rubbing circles around her clit.

Nala’s hands gripped the sheets beneath her, holding on for dear life as Mr. Weston drove her closer and closer to the edge. She could feel her orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her.

And then, with a sudden cry, it hit her. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, her body shaking with the force of her climax. She squirted, gushing all over Mr. Weston’s hand and the bed beneath her.

But even as she came down from her high, Mr. Weston wasn’t done with her yet. He positioned himself at her entrance, his BBC nudging against her swollen folds.

“Please, Master,” Nala begged, her voice ragged with desire. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

Mr. Weston didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he slammed into her, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

Nala screamed, the pleasure almost too much to bear. He started to move, his hips snapping against her ass as he pounded into her again and again. Nala could feel every inch of him, stretching her, filling her so completely.

She met his thrusts, pushing her hips back to take him even deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingled with their moans and cries of pleasure.

Nala could feel another orgasm building, even more intense than the last. Her whole body was trembling, her pussy clenching around Mr. Weston’s BBC.

And then, with a final, powerful thrust, it hit her. She came with a scream, her pussy gushing, squirting all over Mr. Weston’s BBC. He followed right behind her, his BBC pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick cum.

They collapsed together onto the bed, both gasping for breath. Nala’s body was still shaking, aftershocks of pleasure coursing through her.

As they lay there, Mr. Weston pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her. He pressed a kiss to her temple, a tender gesture after such an intense session.

“Nala, my dear,” he murmured. “You are a true pleasure slave. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Nala simply smiled, snuggling into his embrace. In that moment, she knew that she was truly where she belonged – in the arms of her Master, ready and willing to service him in any way he desired.