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Up For Grabs
Toe-tally Obsessed
Leggy Step-Sister
Arabian Nights
Honey, It Started As A Footjob: Part One
Teasing Massage
Chanel Preston lounges in her bathrobe when a knock hits the door. Codey Steele waits on the other side with a fold-up table and a grin, offering the hotel's "welcome rub." She hesitates, but free’s free. The robe drops. Panties follow. Codey’s hands move in long, sure strokes down her back, shoulders, calves—every touch melting the last of her shyness. He praises the curve of her hips, the give of her skin, words that slide between work and want. Her breath catches when those same hands cup her breasts, knead the soft flesh, then slide lower to palm her ass like he already owns it. The moment his fingers trace the wet seam of her pussy, the polite mask slips. Chanel’s hips tilt, hungry. Codey takes the cue. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking slow circles over her clit until she shakes, gasping. The table creaks when he stands, pushes inside her, hips snapping harder with each stroke. The rub becomes a fuck—sweat, laughter, tangled limbs—and Chanel decides she’ll happily pay extra next time if this is how the hotel treats its guests.
Chanel Preston lounges in her bathrobe when a knock hits the door. Codey Steele waits on the other side with a fold-up table and a grin, offering the hotel's "welcome rub." She hesitates, but free’s free. The robe drops. Panties follow. Codey’s hands move in long, sure strokes down her back, shoulders, calves—every touch melting the last of her shyness. He praises the curve of her hips, the give of her skin, words that slide between work and want. Her breath catches when those same hands cup her breasts, knead the soft flesh, then slide lower to palm her ass like he already owns it. The moment his fingers trace the wet seam of her pussy, the polite mask slips. Chanel’s hips tilt, hungry. Codey takes the cue. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking slow circles over her clit until she shakes, gasping. The table creaks when he stands, pushes inside her, hips snapping harder with each stroke. The rub becomes a fuck—sweat, laughter, tangled limbs—and Chanel decides she’ll happily pay extra next time if this is how the hotel treats its guests.