The masseuse's touch is pure ecstasy, each stroke igniting fireworks under his skin. She works her way down his body, her fingers dancing on his flesh. She lingers on his inner thighs, her breath hot and tantalizing. He can feel her eyes on him, hungry and wanting. She leans in, her breasts pressing against his back, her voice a sultry whisper in his ear. Her hands slip lower, cupping his balls, her touch feather-light yet charged with electricity. She traces his shaft, feeling its hardness, before giving it a gentle, promising squeeze.