Massage By Proxy

Gianna Dior walks her best friend Darcie Dolce into the bedroom and they sit on the bed. She thanks her for showing up—she's had a rough day and needs someone close. Darcie pulls her into a hug and swears she's always there, no matter what. Darcie notices something off. Gianna keeps fidgeting and her face is tight. Gianna gives a short laugh and insists the problem isn't huge. Then she admits it involves Darcie's twin—her boyfriend. Darcie flings her hands up and asks what he's pulled this time, and both of them crack up. Between breaths, Gianna says he's barely around lately. Darcie nods—she's noticed his flaky streak. Relieved, Gianna adds that he gave her a cheesy free-massage voucher on her birthday that still hasn't been used. She grabs the slip from the dresser and shows it. Schedules never line up, and she laughs because the voucher is supposed to come with sex, too. If he had any sense, he'd already be here cashing it in. Darcie plucks the voucher and grins. She'll honor it herself. Twin sister, close enough, right? A little massage by proxy. Gianna thinks she's joking until Darcie climbs behind her and starts rubbing her shoulders. Darcie murmurs about all the tension knotted under her fingers. Gianna mutters that she hasn't been touched in ages, and Darcie says that's exactly why she's been seeing women. The conversation turns curious. Gianna asks what girls are like. Darcie answers that they understand what feels good. She starts easing Gianna's shirt off, casual as anything, and suggests they both strip to underwear. Gianna hesitates, then agrees, and they settle—Gianna on her stomach, Darcie straddling her hips. Hands move slower now. Each stroke slides lower, lingers longer. Gianna's breathing changes. She arches into the touch. When Darcie rolls her over, Gianna's face burns hot. Darcie never falters; she kneads breasts, palms, hips. Gianna's guilt flares for a second—she blurts out the massage is making her think of sex and her boyfriend isn't here. Darcie only smiles and quotes her own words: the voucher means sex too, and she'll make sure Gianna gets everything promised. Darcie kisses her. Gianna stays still a moment, then melts under the confidence of those lips. Neck kisses follow, then breast kisses, and Darcie's hand slips between Gianna's legs, two fingers pressing in. Soon Gianna is gasping, hips rolling. Darcie slips lower, spreads her open, and licks deep—slow at first, then greedier. Gianna learns fast; she reaches down, fingers buried in dark hair, guiding the pace. Pleasure hits sharp and sudden, and Gianna realizes why her friend might just stick to women.