She walks into the room with a catty, wispy walk and ignores you. She lights the re Cohn bulbs on gushing the room with the dandelion yellow glow of the spherical filaments. She edges towards you with a masterful stroke then stops right over you.
She lights her candles one by one releasing a thick, light aroma through the room to infuse it with a horny, erotic feel. It is a hazy scent, a strong fragrance halfway between acidic and wet dust. She plants her thighs into your thighs and presses your groin with her smooth knees.
The candle’s single smoky thread goes up the room and fills it with a misty, abstract air that is ice-white in color. She snaps the left hook of her bra and lets it fall. She then snaps the other hook and watches it as it slowly goes over her tender breast and drops over to her curve waist. She lets it flow over her lacy underwear and fall over to her feet.
She pulls back her knee from your groin and slowly pulls down her panty revealing a cusped crouch between her thighs. You will want to lean forward to touch the breasts, she will pull back and kick away the panty.
She jerks slowly over you as she presses her soft fingers into your spine. You gasp for breathe. The towel on your waist lifts up. She digs further into the furrow on your back slowly easing her way to your lower back and pelvis. You groan in satisfaction. She unleashes her trade on you stretching her arms to cusp your pelvis and further down into the gap in your thighs. She enjoys every moment of it.
She knows her trade. Like a master at her art. She has mastered your body. She knows every crevasse, every nerve ending, every muscle of the male body and she explores them endlessly. She is at home with the sensual feel of the moment. It is a familiar world, a professional excellence horned by hours and hours of training, skill and passion. She presses your crotch squeezing you in between the thigh as you lets out a sonorous voice.
Her occasional giggles and supple persona gives way to a more dexterous and skillful, confident gait that encircles you again and again pressing her knees on the soft cushions. You let out an endless stream of a sonorous moan as she massages your hardened erection.
The dandelion yellow part of the scented candles burns out giving way to a flaxen colored bit but burns ever more slowly with a smokeless wick. Her long silky hair bounces off her shoulders as she gently jerks rhythmically over your chiseled arms.
You are responding simultaneously. You gasp again, she giggles. She adds more massage oils on to your girth and proceeds to give you a deep tissue massage on the waist towards your loins. You stretch out on the massage parlor and close your eyes. Both of you are enjoying the moment. She pulls away and taps your feet to signal the end of the session. She heaves.
