Now, I Demand My Relaxing Rubdown

"I want a massage now," you declare, stepping into the private parlour, your heart pounding with excitement. The room is warm, the lighting low, casting inviting shadows. The masseuse, a tall, muscular individual, greets you with a smoldering smile, their hands already slick with oil. They guide you to the table, their touch sending electric shocks through your body. As they begin, their strong hands gliding over your skin, you feel your muscles relax, but your arousal grows. You part your legs slightly, inviting more, your breath hitching as their fingers graze your throbbing center.

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