Female ejaculation-focused massage therapy emphasizing intense internal stimulation. Expert therapists locate and work sensitive spots with oil-covered fingers, creating overwhelming sensory experiences culminating in dramatic wet releases. Pleasure elevated to an art form.
Masseur Ryan Driller flashes a grin as he shakes hands with his next client, that smoking MILF Dee Williams. She's eyeing him head to toe, biting her lip like she's already plotting mischief. 'Ready for your massage?' he asks. 'Honey, I've been counting down the days,' she purrs, all flirty fire. 'I'm primed for that special kind.' Ryan chuckles, cocky edge in his voice. 'Every rubdown's special here, babe. I'll hook you up with top-shelf service.' Dee smirks, wicked as sin. 'Bet you will.' 'Perfect,' he shoots back. 'Any hot spots? Tense bits screaming for my hands?' She trails her fingers down her dress, showing off that killer curve-hugging bod. 'Love full-body love, but yeah, some spots are begging. This rack? Prime target for your focus.' Then she spins, arching that plump ass. 'And my lower back's been tight—real damn tight.' Ryan clears his throat, playing it cool. 'No sweat. This way.' He guides her to the table, steps back while she strips down and climbs on, face-first in the hole. Session's winding down when he says, 'Last bit: temple rub to seal the deal.' Dee pouts. 'Aw, thought this gig came with a happy finish.' Ryan blinks, playing dumb, but she zips right to it—hand straight to his crotch, squeezing firm. 'Ah, that finish,' he grins, light dawning. 'Unless you're not game?' she teases, stroking his bulge like it's hers already. 'Hell yeah, I'm game,' he admits. 'Just not parlor standard. But for you? Special treatment, incoming.'
Masseur Ryan Driller flashes a grin as he shakes hands with his next client, that smoking MILF Dee Williams. She's eyeing him head to toe, biting her lip like she's already plotting mischief. 'Ready for your massage?' he asks. 'Honey, I've been counting down the days,' she purrs, all flirty fire. 'I'm primed for that special kind.' Ryan chuckles, cocky edge in his voice. 'Every rubdown's special here, babe. I'll hook you up with top-shelf service.' Dee smirks, wicked as sin. 'Bet you will.' 'Perfect,' he shoots back. 'Any hot spots? Tense bits screaming for my hands?' She trails her fingers down her dress, showing off that killer curve-hugging bod. 'Love full-body love, but yeah, some spots are begging. This rack? Prime target for your focus.' Then she spins, arching that plump ass. 'And my lower back's been tight—real damn tight.' Ryan clears his throat, playing it cool. 'No sweat. This way.' He guides her to the table, steps back while she strips down and climbs on, face-first in the hole. Session's winding down when he says, 'Last bit: temple rub to seal the deal.' Dee pouts. 'Aw, thought this gig came with a happy finish.' Ryan blinks, playing dumb, but she zips right to it—hand straight to his crotch, squeezing firm. 'Ah, that finish,' he grins, light dawning. 'Unless you're not game?' she teases, stroking his bulge like it's hers already. 'Hell yeah, I'm game,' he admits. 'Just not parlor standard. But for you? Special treatment, incoming.'