All Girl Massage Update - Runaway Bride

Whitney spots the white dress first. Her new client sits bolt upright on the table, veil still pinned in place, mascara smudged like she sprinted here. Casey Calvert. Runaway bride, evidently. Whitney doesn’t ask questions, just motions for the dress to come off. Casey hesitates, then slips out of satin and lace, skin prickling under sudden air. She folds her arms across her chest, nipples already stiff, shaved lips bare and smooth. Whitney oils her palms and starts long, firm strokes down Casey’s back. The tension doesn’t budge, so she leans closer, breath warm on Casey’s ear. "You don’t have to talk," she murmurs, "but it helps." Between slow circles on Casey’s shoulders, the story spills: cold feet, untouched curiosity, the fear that a lifetime with one man might bury something she’s never tried. Whitney’s hands glide lower, cupping, spreading. She rolls Casey onto her back and takes one tight nipple between her lips, sucking until Casey gasps. From there it’s all slick fingers and open mouths. Whitney licks broad stripes over Casey’s smooth cunt, tongue flicking, then sliding inside while two fingers crook upward. Casey’s hips jerk; her moans crack into helpless little sobs. Whitney climbs over her, grinds clit to clit, slick heat meeting slick heat until both women shake and Casey comes hard, thighs locked around Whitney’s waist. The veil stays on the chair. Whether Casey walks down any aisle after this is a question the room leaves hanging.