Flexible Girl

Samantha greets Mia at the spa and tells her to strip. Mia hesitates, bare and exposed, with nothing to hide behind. Samantha’s eyes move over her slowly—hungry, obvious—and the attention makes Mia shift. She suggests stretching and a massage. The offer carries authority, and Mia eases. Samantha’s hands work oil across her back, down her legs. Each stroke brings her fingers inches from Mia’s glistening folds. The urge to spread her open pulses under Samantha’s skin, but she reins it in, building toward something later. She bends Mia’s limbs into slow, deliberate shapes, pressing deep into the tight muscle until the first low moan slips free. A stray fingertip grazes wet heat; Mia makes a soft, uncertain sound but does not pull away. Gradually the touches grow bolder, circling, parting. Samantha finds slick resistance, then sinking heat. Moans spill from Mia with every deliberate thrust. When her body finally tightens around Sam’s fingers, the release washes through her in long waves. After that there is nothing measured left. They trade places on the table, mouths trading tastes, fingers pumping in unison, gasping against each other until their shared climax cuts the air in sharp, shaking cries.