MIA Masseuse

Silvia Saige waits alone in the lobby, irritation written across her face. When Ivy Lebelle arrives, Silvia tells her the masseuse is running late. Ivy shrugs and suggests they step outside where the massage table sits beneath open sky. The fresh air doesn't calm Silvia's impatience, but she follows anyway. Ivy admits the masseuse has disappeared on clients before. She learned the trade directly from the woman, though, so when she offers to work on Silvia herself, the brunette accepts. Silvia peels off her clothes and climbs onto the table without underwear, her smooth ass catching Ivy's attention at once. Ivy's hands glide over warm skin, kneading deeper with each stroke. She mentions a new technique that requires straddling the client for better leverage. Silvia smiles to herself; she knows the game, yet she rolls onto her back anyway. Ivy climbs over her, knees planted on either side of Silvia's ribs. Their eyes lock, then their mouths. The kiss is slow, hungry. Ivy's hands slide lower, fingers parting wet folds while Silvia tugs at Ivy's waistband. Within moments both women are bare, legs tangled, mouths busy. They shift into a perfect sixty-nine. Silvia's tongue finds Ivy's clit while Ivy drives two fingers into Silvia's cunt. Their hips rock together, the table creaking under the steady rhythm. Ivy's big tits press against Silvia's belly as she curls her fingers just right, and Silvia answers with her own deep strokes. Moans drift into the trees. When they finally come, it is loud and unapologetic. The missing masseuse is the last thing on either woman's mind.