Show And Tell

The spa smelled like eucalyptus and money. Zoey slipped back into the room while India lay face down, nothing but a thin sheet draped across her ass. "Any spots I should pay extra attention to?" Zoey asked. Her hands got to work before India could finish naming her shoulders. Oil glistened as thumbs pressed deep between the blades, then moved lower, kneading the curve of each glute. Slow. Firm. Deliberate. "How'd you find us?" Zoey asked, working the backs of India’s thighs. "A friend," India murmured into the face cradle. She’d expected scented towels and ambient music, not whatever this was turning into. The sheet vanished. Zoey climbed onto the table, straddling India’s lower back, her bare thighs warm and slick against skin. Moments later the white uniform was gone too. Beneath it, black lace. Then nothing at all. Zoey’s breasts brushed India’s ribs as she leaned in. A dancer’s body—taut stomach, waxed smooth, hips that rolled when she breathed. The room felt smaller. India swallowed. Hesitated. Then her mouth found Zoey’s cunt like she’d been waiting for it. Tongue flat, slow at first, tasting salt and heat. Zoey’s fingers tightened in India’s hair. Legs trembled. India licked deeper, circled her clit, moaned when she felt Zoey’s thighs clench around her head. The climax hit hard. Zoey cursed, hips jerking, come slick on India’s chin. The sound—raw, shameless—filled every corner. When it was over India couldn’t stop smiling.