I suffered an injury during a jogging accident that left me almost unable to move. Not wanting to be stuck in a hospital, I hired a home helper to break through the inconvenience of my daily life. Enter Miura, a helper clad in a tight uniform, unable to hide her voluptuous breasts. She provides care with a detached, indifferent voice from behind her mask. Faced with a "woman" far beyond my expectations, I inadvertently find myself erect. She reaches for my pants with a business-like touch. "If you're paying the fee, I can take care of this as well."
Even with my cock in front of her, her tone remains indifferent. It's a business-like approach, purely for the sake of "sexual disposal." This straightforward erotic act, devoid of unnecessary emotion, tickles my masochistic heart. She surely stimulates my weak spots. Huge breasts shaking violently before my eyes, voluptuous thighs overflowing from her tight outfit. When she tells me in a cool voice, "Three more times to go," she delivers a follow-up milking that doesn't even allow for a refractory period. From close-contact care in the bath to oil massages at night, I am left at her mercy by her expressionless face, reaching climax after climax. The frustration of being unable to move has, before I know it, turned into the ultimate excitement.
