Old High School Friend

Annika's back hurt like hell. A few of the girls at the spa kept whispering about Courtney, the new masseuse with the magic hands. She booked the slot. When she showed up, recognition clicked between them—same campus, same graduating class. Courtney smiled slow. “You were the girl all the other girls wanted,” she said. “You still into women?” Annika gave a small shrug. “Used to be. Not anymore.” Courtney nodded, told her to undress, and the massage began with deep pressure along her spine. Then Annika felt skilled palms glide over her ribs and onto her breasts—slow circles, gentle pulls at the nipples until they tightened. Annika breathed through her teeth. Courtney’s hands slid lower, pushed her thighs apart, and she leaned in, tongue finding heat and wet, licking steady strokes over Annika’s clit. Annika whispered that she didn’t do this anymore. Courtney lifted just long enough to say, “Consider it the bonus package,” and went back to work. Annika’s legs shook; she came with a choked moan, fingers clenched in the sheet. Heat flushed through her. She sat up, tugged Courtney’s shirt over her head, peeled the rest away, then laid the masseuse flat and spread her open. Annika’s tongue moved in firm circles until Courtney’s thighs clamped around her head and she came loud, voice cracking, hips jerking against Annika’s mouth.