Megan is a rich and spoiled scion of a famous industrial family. She spends all her time playing sports and shopping, without having to worry about working to maintain her very expensive lifestyle. One of her favorite sports is tennis. Although she is very passionate about it, she is not exactly a star player; in fact, she is rather mediocre.
?She can't stand losing every match and asks her instructor for a private lesson so she can watch other players and perfect her technique. The man is reluctant to let her into his home. The girl is beautiful and he has a soft spot for her. He fears that her insistence is really just a ploy to get him alone. As her instructor, Andy has a professional code of conduct to uphold, both for ethical reasons and because the girl has a reputation for being a real b*tch: she has often seduced men just for the sake of making them look bad.
?Indeed, when they are sitting on the sofa watching videos, she behaves arrogantly, asking why he never taught her to play that way, as if Andy were to blame for her sporting failures. At that point, she says something ridiculous: she saw on the internet that the secret to being a good tennis player lies in your feet. She then tells Andy that he has to give her a relaxing foot massage to improve her stability in the game. She then orders him to take off her shoes.
?Andy refuses, saying that a foot massage would not solve the problem at all, which is mainly due to the woman's poor athletic ability, caused by her total lack of commitment to the sport. At this point, Megan openly blackmails him! If he doesn't do everything she tells him to do, she'll accuse him of inviting her over to make advances toward her... The man is now in a tight spot. ?He'll have to go along with her or risk being reported, at the very least losing his job. Megan wields her power with a sultry smirk, commanding Andy to peel off his socks if he wants the privilege of her touch. Though he feigns reluctance, his body betrays him, his c*ck throbs with anticipation, and Megan revels in his barely concealed arousal, her eyes glinting with wicked delight. She slides his pants down slowly, teasingly, her fingers grazing his skin before wrapping around his rock-hard shaft, pulsing with heat in her grip.
Andy’s breath hitches, his body trembling as waves of pleasure surge through him. Megan toys with him masterfully, her hand stroking fast and relentless, then slowing to a t*rmenting crawl, keeping him teetering on the brink of ecstasy without release. Her lips curl into a devilish grin as she shifts tactics, lifting her flawless feet y*ung, soft, adorned with a glossy French pedicure that catches the light. She glides her toes along his length, teasing the sensitive tip before pressing the silky soles against him, moving with agonizing precision. Andy groans, lost in the sensation, his hips twitching as she keeps him trapped in a cycle of unrelenting pleasure, never letting him spill over.
After what feels like an eternity of exquisite t*rment, Megan peels off her tight shirt, revealing her bare, perky breasts, their soft curves glistening in the dim light. Andy’s eyes widen, his restraint crumbling as she leans closer, her maddeningly seductive aroma. Her feet never stop their wicked dance, stroking him with expert rhythm, pushing him to the edge but denying him release with sadistic precision.
Then, with a commanding glint in her eye, Megan declares her next desire: Andy must worship her *ss. Powerless to resist, he watches as she slips off her skirt, her naked body a vision of temptation. She straddles his face, her smooth, round cheeks pressing against him, her musky warmth overwhelming his senses. Her hand returns to his c*ck, stroking with relentless fervor, each movement dragging him closer to the abyss of climax. She’d promised he could come if he obeyed her every whim, and Andy surrenders c*mpletely, his tongue exploring her as she demanded, his body screaming for release.
But just as he’s about to erupt, Megan pulls away, her laughter low and cruel. She stands, leaving him aching, his c*ck throbbing painfully, denied at the peak of desperation. “See you next week,” she purrs, scooping up her clothes from the couch with a taunting sway of her hips. Andy scrambles to his feet, pleading, hoping it’s a twisted joke, but Megan’s already walking away, her wicked chuckle echoing as she leaves him consumed by unfulfilled desire, another cruel game from the brazen, irresistible vixen.

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