A skilled lesbian masseuse, working late, tends to her last client of the day. As she kneads her patient's tense muscles, her professional demeanor begins to falter, her touch softening, lingering. Her eyes rove over the woman's curves, her breath hitching slightly. She leans in, her lips brushing against the nape of her client's neck, a whisper of a kiss. The masseuse's hands move lower, her touch becoming more intimate, more urgent. She parts the woman's thighs, her fingers finding the wetness hidden there, her tongue following suit, tasting, exploring.