Fear of Touch

Jayme Langford sits on the massage table, tense, her pale skin glowing under the soft light. She tells her therapist she’s terrified of touch. The suggestion is simple: a massage with Karlie Montana, a redhead with full breasts that sway when she leans over the table. Karlie promises to go slow. She steps out so Jayme can undress alone, then lingers at the doorway for one quick look at the blonde’s naked curves before returning. Jayme lies face-down, already trembling. Karlie’s hands begin at her feet, warm and patient, then glide up her thighs. When fingertips graze the curve of Jayme’s ass, a small gasp slips out. Karlie moves higher, palms sliding over the sides of Jayme’s breasts, full and soft against the sheet. Each new touch earns a quiet word of praise, and Jayme’s breathing changes, fear turning into something hotter. She confesses she’s never been touched, never kissed, never fucked. Karlie answers by easing Jayme onto her back and parting her thighs. She lowers her mouth between those legs, tongue tracing slow circles over the slick folds until Jayme’s hips lift off the table. Wetness spreads across Karlie’s lips. Jayme’s first orgasm hits hard, her cry sharp and surprised. She grabs Karlie, pulls her up, and kisses her, hungry now. They shift into a sixty-nine, Jayme tasting another woman for the first time, tongue buried while Karlie grinds against her mouth. The room fills with wet sounds and low moans until both women come again, bodies shaking, all of Jayme’s old fear burned away in the heat.