my pussy need to be wet

Sarah hesitates at the entrance of the dimly lit massage parlor, the scent of jasmine and musk wrapping around her like a second skin. She hasn’t booked a session, just wandered in off the rain-soaked street, her body humming with need she can’t ignore. Behind the beaded curtain, Marco kneels on the tiled floor, his hands poised over a basin of warm, scented oil, his dark eyes tracing the subtle sway of her hips as she steps closer. The atmosphere crackles with tension as his fingers brush the inside of her thigh, the slow glide of his touch drawing moisture where she craves it most. By the time he presses her against the massage table, her skin already slick with anticipation, every nerve is alight, begging for more.