Sex massage - part I.

A tall brunette with heavy breasts glides her hands over his shoulders. The oil warms fast against his skin. He feels her fingers dig in, slow, firm, then slide lower. Her touch moves past the towel, grazes him once, then twice, until the cloth tents. She doesn’t pretend to ignore it. Instead she wraps her fingers around the hard length and strokes once, from root to tip, thumb spreading the slick bead at the crown. He groans and pulls her onto the table, lips finding a stiff pink nipple. Her breasts spill over his chest as she climbs astride, knees braced. One hand still pumps him, guiding the swollen head between her parted lips. She takes him deep in a single swallow, cheeks hollowing, throat fluttering. Spit runs down his shaft while her own hips rock, seeking friction against nothing but air. He threads fingers through her dark hair, controlling the rhythm until her eyes water, then yanks her up. In one motion he flips her onto her back, spreads her thighs, and presses the blunt tip where she’s slick and open. She arches, mouth open, breasts trembling with every thrust.