Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449
The fire had burned down to a low, amber glow, lazy shadows across the bedroom. He lay prone on the mattress, his shoulders knotted into tight, rigid peaks from a week of relentless stress. When I sat straddling his thighs, he let out a low, exhausted sigh, burying his face deeper into the pillow.
“You’re entirely too tense,” I murmured, pouring a few drops of warmed jasmine oil into my palms.
Instead of using my hands to work out the tension, I rubbed the fragrant oil over my skin; coating the soft curves of my breasts until they gleamed in the firelight. I leaned forward, letting my hair fall over his neck like a silk curtain. I pressed my chest firmly against his upper back.
He caught his breath as the warm, plush weight of my breasts met his rigid muscles. Slowly, I began to move; sliding my torso down his spine in long, deliberate strokes. The friction of skin against skin, lubricated by the fragrant oil, created a deep, kneading pressure that hands could never replicate. My breasts molded perfectly to the contours of his shoulder blades, smoothing out the knots with every slow, heavy glide.
A…
A Massage For Stress Relief
The fire had burned down to a low, amber glow, lazy shadows across the bedroom. He lay prone on the mattress, his shoulders knotted into tight, rigid peaks from a week of relentless stress. When I sat straddling his thighs, he let out a low, exhausted sigh, burying his face deeper into the pillow.
“You’re entirely too tense,” I murmured, pouring a few drops of warmed jasmine oil into my palms.
Instead of using my hands to work out the tension, I rubbed the fragrant oil over my skin; coating the soft curves of my breasts until they gleamed in the firelight. I leaned forward, letting my hair fall over his neck like a silk curtain. I pressed my chest firmly against his upper back.
He caught his breath as the warm, plush weight of my breasts met his rigid muscles. Slowly, I began to move; sliding my torso down his spine in long, deliberate strokes. The friction of skin against skin, lubricated by the fragrant oil, created a deep, kneading pressure that hands could never replicate. My breasts molded perfectly to the contours of his shoulder blades, smoothing out the knots with every slow, heavy glide.
A low rumble of approval vibrated through his chest.
I shifted my weight, leaning heavily to the left, using the full, soft fullness of my breast to press into the tight muscle beneath his shoulder, before sweeping across his lower back. The sensation was fluid, an intimate dance of pressure and yielding softness.
With every downward stroke, I let my nipples brush lightly against his skin, a teasing contrast to the deep, heavy massage of my breasts. He reached back blindly, his fingers gripping my hips, pulling me closer to deepen the contact. I sank into him, completely surrendered to the rhythm. Using my entire body to soothe his aches, melting his tension away until the line between giving and receiving blurred into nothing but warmth and breath.
As his soft noises filled the room, I reached to roll him over. Settling in between his legs, I wrapped my breasts around his cock, matching the same rhythm I had used on his back. “I need to massage you here too.”
Molly 1-844-332-2639 ext 449