Up The Skirt

Alix Lynx struts in, complaining about this nagging hip pain from her sport grind. First massage ever, and she's dead set on keeping her clothes on. Sasha Heart, the therapist, lays it out straight: those threads will screw with her rehab. But fine, they start with Alix dressed, and Sasha promises she'll ease her out of 'em nice and slow. She tugs off those knee socks first, then slathers on a warm body rub to melt her defenses. Alix squirms when Sasha hikes up her shirt, but Sasha pushes back—gotta hit that skin for real treatment. Damn, Alix is wound tight as a spring, all that tournament pressure baking her brain. Sasha coos, let me knead out the knots in your hip and ass cheeks, babe. Oh, and those pretty red panties? Chef's kiss. Alix starts to crumble under those magic hands, tension draining like bad vibes out the window. Sasha flips her onto her back and dives into those huge tits, raving about her killer bod. 'Bet everyone lines up to fuck you,' Sasha grins. Alix shoots back, that's way out of line. Nah, Sasha smirks, I don't sweet-talk every client—you're special. Love how you play coy; it's got me hooked bad. Bet you're messing with me on purpose, showing up in that teasing getup. Her fingers slip over that pussy through the pink panties, voice dropping low: 'Can I bury my face between your thighs and make you explode?' Clothes hit the floor, and Sasha laps at the teen's smooth shaved slit. Then she rims that tight asshole, sending Alix yelping and moaning in bliss until she gushes hard. Alix pants, okay, you win—I'll give you exactly what you crave. She climbs on top, and they dive into a steamy 69, sucking clits like pros till they both shatter in juicy waves.