The Meddling Maid

Vanessa and Teagan check in to celebrate, eyes sparkling, bottle already open. Stevie clocks the scene, clocks an opening. She rolls in with a white robe and a bottle of oil, sells Vanessa the story that she's the surprise gift Teagan ordered. Vanessa buys it, peels the little black dress over her head, nothing underneath, the hem sliding across her ass with a soft whisper. Stevie watches the fabric drop, drinks in brown nipples already tight, the faint shimmer of moisture between Vanessa's thighs. The massage table waits, scented towels, warm oil. Vanessa climbs on, belly-down, plush cheeks parting just enough for a view. Stevie drizzles oil along the small of her back, spreads it with both hands, thumbing the twin dimples above each swell. She kneads slow circles into Vanessa's shoulders, then works lower, cupping each breast from the sides, fingers brushing her nipples on every outward stroke. Vanessa sighs, hips lifting on instinct. Stevie's slick fingers slide between her cheeks, trace one slow path over Vanessa's pucker, then dip lower, parting her lips to find her already wet and clenching. Stevie smiles, still playing the shy masseuse until Vanessa looks back and asks her to stop teasing. Stevie answers by sinking two fingers deep, thumb rolling tight circles around Vanessa's clit. The room fills with slick sounds and Vanessa's sudden moan. Teagan planned the best gift: Stevie on call, ready to fuck her girlfriend silly while she watches from the doorway, drink in hand, waiting her turn.