Squirting Massages

AJ steps into the dim room expecting the usual quiet rubdown. Dana’s hands feel different from the start—too sure, too slow. When the first brush between her thighs lingers, AJ stiffens. Dana leans in, voice low, and says it comes with the session. AJ’s breath catches. Dana climbs onto the table, full weight settling, lips wet and open. The first kiss slides deep. AJ’s protest melts into a soft sound, legs parting. Soon Dana twists above her, mouth locked to her cunt, tongue flicking fast. AJ answers, sucking Dana’s swollen folds, tasting fresh heat. Juices drip down thighs onto the sheet, then spurt in quick, hot bursts that darken the cotton. The table creaks under them, wet sounds filling the small space. Dana’s earlier promise rings true; nothing else feels quite like a full-service massage.