Untraditional Physical Therapy

She moves like a dancer, lean lines, blonde hair catching light. AJ came in complaining about her hip flexors and left whatever came next entirely in Cherie’s hands. Cherie isn’t shy about her method. She presses her palms where they’re needed, calm, unhurried, until the resistance begins to melt. AJ gives a short laugh at first—another one of those feelings-exercises—but her body contradicts her, hips lifting, breath catching. Fingers slide higher. Cherie’s touch finds heat, slick, unmistakable, and she doesn’t pull away. Their mouths meet hard. AJ’s back arches off the table when two fingers push inside her, slick enough to take them without resistance. She groans into Cherie’s mouth, then returns the favor, curling her own fingers deep until Cherie’s breath breaks against her throat. They work each other open, fast, wet, hips snapping together, until wetness spills over knuckles, thighs, the table beneath them. AJ shudders first, then Cherie, both of them coming loud and messy, bodies shaking, squirt arcing over skin.