Caught Masturbating

Gina Valentina hits the phone hard. She’s seen the bank records. She wants out. She slams the divorce threat down her husband’s throat, then books a midnight full-body rub because revenge tastes better greased up. She’s already spread on the sofa, legs wide, fingers loud between her thighs when Darcie Dolce steps through the door. The masseuse gets the eyeful she didn’t sign up for and Gina greets her with a slick smile. She slides the last scrap of lace down her hips, then stretches out bare-ass naked on the cushions. Oil hits warm skin. Darcie works Gina’s back, says the soft kind of sorry that means she’s heard the story before. "I’m not one of those girls," she promises. Hands glide lower, thighs, calves, soles. Gina flips. "Sit on me," she says, guiding Darcie right onto her stomach. Bare tits slick under denim. Gina tugs at the jeans. "Off. They’re scratching." Darcie peels them down. Flesh on flesh. Gina’s hands get greedy—palming ass, brushing heat—too much too fast. Darcie jerks back. "I should go." Gina’s on her knees in half a heartbeat, mouth sealing tight, tongue insistent, and Darcie’s knees buckle. The moan that leaves her sounds like surrender. She cums hard, thighs shaking against Gina’s cheeks. Gasping now, Darcie drops, buries her tongue between slick folds until Gina’s hips jerk and a raw cry tears out. Gina yanks Darcie back on top, grinds hard, tribbing the both of them into slick, frenzied heat until every last spark is spent.