The Booty Massage

She gets on the table face-down. The sheet is barely covering her ass. He flips it back without asking. Hands oil up warm and then start working her shoulders, her sides. Then the real game begins. One palm slides lower, the other presses her thighs apart, just far enough. She raises her hips an inch like she’s trying to stretch. Truth is she’s giving him clearance. Fingers trace between her lips, slow, steady, like he knows this part of the menu gets ordered without anyone saying a word. Two fingers slip inside her. She sighs, hips push back, and now he’s stroking deep and steady while she stays face-down like this is normal. Then he adds a thumb on her clit, circles it while the other hand pumps. The room stays quiet except the wet sound and her breathing getting louder. She stops pretending she’s here for knots in her back. He speeds up, drags his fingers out just long enough to circle her entrance again, then pushes back in. Her thighs tense. She arches. He grins, keeps working, like he’s got all the time in the world and knows exactly what’s gonna happen next.