Lobby Of Lust

Abigail Mac has waited all week for this massage. At the desk, she finds no one. She leans across the wood, breasts spilling over the edge, but the lobby stays empty. She settles into the leather chair to wait, legs spread, skirt riding up. Minutes stretch. She slips two fingers beneath her thong, circling her clit, chasing the ache she arrived with. She has just begun to moan when Natasha Voya steps out from behind the reception. The masseuse catches her mid-stroke. Natasha smiles, introduces herself, and offers the Tantric Massage. Abigail agrees without hesitation. Naked on the table, skin slick with warm oil, Natasha’s hands work every curve—slow, deliberate, teasing until Abigail arches and begs. The wait was long. The finish is longer.