Speechless

Amia showed up for a massage and the place was dead silent except Catie, who practically beamed at the sight of her. Catie thrives in quiet rooms, so she locked the door and waved Amia onto the table. She works that deep-tissue style she swears by, elbows digging just right, fingertips gliding over Amia’s warm skin. Every knot loosens until Amia drifts, lips parting on soft sighs that grow wetter by the minute. Catie’s smirk deepens; she already knows where this is headed. When Amia starts grinding her hips against nothing, Catie stops pretending it’s still therapy and slides two fingers straight into that slick, smooth pussy. She strips, throws a leg over Amia, and they grind together, sweat mixing, slick folds sliding until they both come hard. Turns out the silence was perfect, because now Amia can moan as loud as she wants.