Massage Table Sins: From Relaxation to Penetration

In the dimly lit room, the masseuse's hands trace the curves of her client's body, her touch firm yet sensual. As she reaches his groin, she pauses, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. She smirks, her fingers lingering on his growing bulge. He bites his lip, his breath hitching as she strokes him through the thin fabric. With a mischievous glint, she pours more oil onto her hands, her touch becoming more intimate. She grips his shaft, her thumb rubbing circles over the head, making him gasp. The room echoes with their shared moans, their bodies moving in sync, the massage table creaking under their weight as they succumb to their desires.

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