The Tourist Guide

Rebeca flew in from Madrid and her lower back had been aching since the red-eye. She spotted the parlor sign and walked in. Briana met her at the desk and steered her down the hall to the private showers. “Strip,” Briana told her. Rebeca hesitated when the woman peeled off her own top, too. She wondered if she’d walked into the wrong place. Still, her back hurt. The warm water hit her shoulders. Briana stepped in, pressed close, and brushed both bare breasts along Rebeca’s spine. Slow passes across skin until Rebeca felt heat flood between her legs. They left wet footprints to the sunken Jacuzzi. Rebeca sat on the tiled edge. Briana slid lower, tongue working fast and firm. Without thinking, Rebeca cupped her breasts, thumbs tracing Briana’s stiff nipples while the tongue kept circling her clit. Minutes later they moved to the slippery air mattress. Rebeca lay back, thighs spread wide. Briana knew exactly where to press, lick, suck, fingers curved and relentless. Pleasure snapped through her in short, raw bursts, one crest following the next until she lay trembling, spent.