Self Defense

Masseuse Lyra Law grins when her self-defense teacher Edyn Blair walks in. Edyn grabs Lyra in a playful headlock, and Lyra’s brain blanks on every technique. Her hand slips right across Edyn’s crotch and everyone laughs it off. Later, Lyra steps back while Edyn strips, eyes fixed politely on the ceiling tiles. The second Edyn’s belly-down on the table, Lyra digs into those smooth glutes and cracks a joke about how unfairly soft her skin is. They swap small talk—Edyn dumped the boyfriend, now she’s seeing girls here and there. Lyra tells her to flip, whistles at the tattoo, whistles louder at the tidy thatch between her thighs. Edyn covers her breasts, shy, but Lyra slides those arms aside and works the full mounds, fingers sinking in. Heading south, she licks Edyn’s toes, wipes her mouth, says “Oops, lotion.” Another swipe across Edyn’s torso, and that same sneaky fingertip brushes her pussy lips. Lyra parts her legs wide, ducks in for a fast lick—“Lotion again”—and Edyn giggles that she wants seconds. Lyra guides Edyn’s own hand down to her clit, strips in two seconds flat, then climbs aboard the table. Her tongue gets busy and Edyn comes hard and quick. They slide into a slick trib, hips grinding until Edyn can’t take it and swaps places to bury her face in Lyra. Once Lyra’s shaking too, she rolls Edyn onto hands and knees, fingers pumping her pussy while her tongue circles the tight ring of her ass. Lyra scoots underneath, locks into a messy sixty-nine, and Edyn’s orgasm hits like a live wire. Lyra seals her mouth around Edyn again, drinking the last aftershocks until Edyn goes limp and breathless.