The Essence Of Sex: Part Two

Casey had makeup to finish and suitcases half-packed when Eliza called from the spa. “Interested in seeing more of your product line?” Casey hung up, grabbed two vials of the new oil, and told her driver to wait. She’d dress for an office. Instead she arrived at a massage table already draped in soft linen. Eliza worked the stopper free. The same spiced oil hit warm skin—citrus, rosewood, and the unmistakable musk that brought every nerve awake. Fingers moved in slow, firm circles down Casey’s spine, over each globe of her ass, then lower, teasing the crevice. “Thought you only wanted samples,” Casey breathed. “I became a masseuse so I could open people up,” Eliza said, honest, quiet. “In every way they need.” Her tongue followed the path her hands had traced. Wet heat slid between Casey’s cheeks and found her hole, lapping while slick fingers worked her clit in the same measured strokes. Casey’s breath broke; her hips bucked; she came hard against the sheet, the tremor rolling straight through her cunt. They switched places without words. Eliza went to hands and knees, and Casey buried her face where she was offered—ass first, then lower—pressing tongue inside both tight openings until Eliza’s thighs shook and her juices glazed Casey’s mouth. Eliza turned, straddled her, rode the tongue in smooth, greedy rolls until her own climax spilled down Casey’s chin. Then she slid forward, lining their wet pussies together, and they ground in tight, slippery circles, clit against clit, until they came again, gasping, bodies locked at the hips.