Anger Management

Jordan shows up at the massage parlor because his shrink told him to. Anger management, supposedly. Asa meets him at the door, all smiles, promising the works. He’s still venting when she starts working on him—grumbling, snapping—but she just keeps going. She’s got ink down her arms and across her hips, smooth skin that catches the light, and she’s not shy about using it. She slides up, grabs his cock with both hands, gets her mouth around it, and works it till it’s standing stiff. Then she gets the Nuru gel out, coats herself, and presses down on him. Tits mashed against his chest, she drags that tight little body up and down his length, jerking him off with slick, full strokes. Jordan stops bitching. He’s too busy watching his load paint her pretty face.