Oily massage

Jasmin knelt at the end of the bed, her slender hands wrapped around my left foot. She started with slow, confident strokes, thumb pressing into the arch before gliding up toward my toes. The pressure sent a quick tickle through me, my leg twitching once before I caught it. Jasmin glanced up with the hint of a smile, but didn’t stop. Another deliberate stroke, firmer now, pulled heat up my calf and straight between my legs. She switched to my right foot, working the heel in tight circles, dragging the ball of her thumb in short, wet drags that left the skin shiny. Every few seconds a new jolt of sensitivity jumped up my shin, yet the warmth that followed sank lower, thickening in my groin. Her grip tightened, knuckles running along the sole, pressing deep enough that the tickle blurred into something needier. I bit my lip, breathing through my nose, while her thumbs traced the tendons above my ankles and slid farther up my legs until both calves tingled. A quiet breath left me when her palms cupped my feet and squeezed, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin beneath each toe, slow and knowing, promising everything that would follow.