The masseuse, a fresh-faced teen, takes her time, her touch feather-light, igniting sparks across his skin. She leans in, her lips brushing his ear, "How about a special happy ending?" She watches his eyes widen, then smirks, her hand slipping lower, cupping him through his towel. She strokes him, her grip firm, her pace steady, building him up. She leans down, her tongue flicking out, tasting him, before taking him fully into her mouth. His hips lift off the table, his breath coming in ragged gasps as she works him over, her hand and mouth in perfect sync, until he's spilling over, his body convulsing with pleasure.