Marriage Counselling

Amanda Tate can't shut up about moving in with her fiancé. She spills the story to Abby Cross while flat on the table getting worked over for a twinge in her back. Abby laughs, says she just ditched her own relationship and never felt better. Single life, her own fingers, anyone else's body she happens to have on the table—Abby says it all feels brand new. Her voice gets low when she describes sliding her tongue between a client's thighs one slow Tuesday, the slick heat, the shaky gasps. Amanda's pulse kicks. She's been with the same man since she was sixteen and she's never tasted anything else. Abby's palms glide down bare skin, thumbs brushing the sides of Amanda's breasts, and Amanda stops breathing for a second. When Abby asks, “Want me to keep going?” the answer is yes before Amanda knows she's giving it. Oil drips across her ass, and Abby's strong fingers part her cheeks, warm breath following close behind. A slick tongue licks down the crack, circles the tight hole, then dives in with one slow push. Amanda claws the sheet. Two wet fingers slip inside her cunt next, curling, pumping, curling again until the bed frame rocks. She comes hard, mouth open on a silent scream, slick running down Abby's knuckles. The guilt hits and fades in the same heartbeat. Amanda rolls onto her back, spreads her legs wider, and pulls the masseuse up for a kiss that tastes like her own cunt. She's tasted freedom now, and she's not giving it back.