Massage Showdown

Adira Allure checks out her new coworker Jay Romero and asks what he's been up to. He starts bragging right away—claims he can work a back like nobody else. She smirks, raises an eyebrow, and says, "Bet?" before throwing out the deal: they massage each other, loser cleans the place every night for a week. Jay agrees, cocky as hell. Adira decides he goes first. She strips, drops onto the table facedown, nothing but a towel across her ass. Jay pours the oil and digs in, working deep into her shoulders, down the curve of her spine, smoothing along her hips. She lets a sly grin slip. Without warning she flicks the towel away, rolls over, tits out, and tells him he might as well get the front too. He swallows hard, trying to keep the same cocky smirk, but his hands shake a little when they cup her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples. He finishes and steps back, sweat at his temples. "Your turn," she says, already sliding off the table. When Jay comes back the room smells like sesame oil and the mat is slick and shiny. She’s naked, the Nuru gel already glistening on her skin. Jay blinks. She shrugs. "You said massage. Didn’t say which kind." He huffs out a laugh, sheds his clothes, and lies down. She glides over him, chest to back, belly to ass, pressing every inch together in one long, slippery stroke. Oil pops between them; her nipples slide across his skin, nipples to thighs, slow circles dragging heat wherever she lands. Jay’s cock swells hard against the mat. He grits his teeth, breathing heavy. She feels the twitch and laughs low against his ear. "You giving up?" He groans yes. She climbs off, but doesn’t reach for a towel. Instead she plants both hands on his hips and whispers, "Winner still gets a prize." His grin flashes wide. He rolls her under him, slick bodies locking together as the mattress squeaks with every deep thrust.