Game, Set, Massage

Aria and Jordan came back from the beach, skin glistening with sweat and salt. Jordan flopped onto the lounger, claiming her shoulder was burning and her thighs were tight from too many serves. Aria offered a rub. Oil made her hands glide over muscle until she reached Jordan’s inner thighs and stopped pretending she was being helpful. One tug and the orange string top came loose; the bottoms followed. Aria’s fingers slipped between slick folds, drawing a shaky sound out of Jordan that was neither protest nor invitation, just hunger. They fucked under the open sky. Fingers pushing deep while they kissed with too much tongue and too little patience. Aria settled between Jordan’s spread thighs and stayed there until they were both gasping, sticky, and spent on the same narrow lounger.