Fresh From The Farm

Ariella's a stone-cold bitch to impress. Sara's got her hands full. Fresh off the farm, pigtails bouncing, the perky little masseuse steps in late and sweating. Ariella's burned through five other girls already, and her assistant can't seem to move them fast enough. She's ready to scrap the whole idea of finding someone to knead her stresses away when Sara strolls through the door. One look at the tight little farmgirl and Ariella perks right up. She fires off questions, then a wicked smirk spreads as Sara says she can show up whenever Ariella wants. Once the massage starts, Sara notices the heat isn't just the knots she's working on. Ariella's eyes keep dropping lower, watching the way Sara's hands move. Then she gives the order: clothes off. The air crackles as Sara freezes for a second, then starts peeling away her shirt. Far as she's concerned, this job's worth every scrap of skin she's got to give.