Sex massage

Zafira slipped into the room expecting nothing more than scented oil and quiet hands. Hope met her at the table wearing that faint, knowing smile. The first touch came slow. Warm oil slid over her shoulders, down the slope of her back, then gathered in the hollow above each cheek. Hope spread it lower, palms wide, thumbs circling, until the slick shine reached the curve where ass met thigh. She worked the oil in with lazy strokes, letting her fingers sink between the cheeks now and then, pressing just enough to open her. The touch lingered there—patient, curious. Hope’s breath stayed even, but her hands moved deeper, testing the give of Zafira’s body, slipping along the crease and pausing at the tight ring of muscle as if measuring something, as if already wondering how much she might take.