Free Use Send-Off

Maddie Wren’s hands glide slow and certain over Ivy’s shoulders. Ivy lies facedown on the table, tits pressed into the heated linen, the weight of them spilling beneath her. The room is quiet except for the slip of oil and skin. Maddie leans close. "I’m leaving at the end of the month," she says, low and even. Ivy lets out a small sound, more breath than words. The door opens. Maddie’s coworker steps in, tray of towels in hand. She pauses, glances once, then shuts the door behind her. "Heard you were moving," she says. Maddie doesn’t stop her work. "Yeah. Next week." The coworker sets the towels down and stays. No one acts surprised. Maddie’s thumbs press into the dip of Ivy’s lower back, then lower still. Oil glistens across the curve of Ivy’s ass. Maddie drags two fingers between her cheeks, circles once, slips lower. Ivy parts her thighs on instinct. Maddie strokes her cunt, slick now, unhurried. Ivy’s hips tilt up to meet her. The coworker leans against the wall, watching without comment. Maddie adds another finger, curls inside. Ivy exhales hard. Her big, natural tits shift against the table with every push. Maddie’s wrist moves in a steady rhythm. The coworker reaches for a bottle of water, takes a sip. Nothing about this seems out of place. Maddie’s free hand comes up to rest on Ivy’s lower back, holding her steady. She works her fingers deeper, thumb pressing firm against Ivy’s clit. Ivy’s breath catches. Her thighs start to tremble. Maddie stays quiet, focused, her touch deliberate and exacting. Ivy comes without warning, a low sound slipping from her throat, body clenching around Maddie’s hand. The coworker just nods once, like this is how it’s done. Maddie doesn’t pull away. She keeps her fingers inside until Ivy’s breathing evens. Then she reaches for another towel, wipes her hand, and goes back to the massage like nothing happened.