Teasing Massage

Hunky T. Stone strolls into the spa, clueless about the treat waiting. His masseuse? The stacked Valentina Nappi, curves for days. She's got this naughty little number lined up: The Italian Massage, baby. She starts him off on his back, slathering oil over his skin, kneading every damn inch from behind—shoulders, back, down to those glutes. Feels like heaven, right? Then she flips the script: 'Roll over, stud.' Time for the front. But hold up—she drops her red satin robe like it's nothing, unveiling a skimpy blue string bikini hugging her tits and ass just right. T. Stone's eyes bulge; he's rock-hard under that towel, and she knows it. With a sly grin, she yanks it off, freeing his big, thick cock. She wraps her soft hands around it first, stroking slow and firm. Then she amps it up, sliding those perky tits over him, teasing the tip. Finally, she climbs aboard the table, straddles his hips, and dives down—taking that pussy-hungry beast straight into her hot, wet mouth, sucking like she means it. Bikini? Gone in a flash, tossed in a heap on the floor. Now she's riding him reverse cowgirl, bouncing that Italian fire, grinding deep until he explodes. Damn, this massage? He'll be lining up for seconds. Viva la Italia!