Private Massage

Gina Valentina's back is throbbing like hell. She dials up her go-to massage spot, begging for an in-house guy that same day. Jackpot—they're sending someone over in under an hour. Door swings open, and there's Romeo Price, all geared up and grinning like he knows exactly what she needs. She hauls his table into the living room, then ducks into the bathroom to strip down. Prone on the table now, towel draped over her, Romeo peels it back for a prime view of that tight ass. Spots her panties? He chuckles, 'You keeping those on?' Gina laughs it off, awkward as fuck, and says yeah. Romeo just shrugs—'No sweat, I'll maneuver around 'em'—and slicks his hands with oil. He digs into her back, strong strokes easing the knots, then slides down to her legs. Fingers creep closer to her cheeks, and he mutters, 'Gotta hit those nerve endings, babe—no way around it if I want your back fixed right.' Uncomfortable spots? Hell yeah, but he's the pro, so she bites her tongue. Flips her over for the upper thighs, and she blurts, 'Never had anyone work there before.' He smirks, 'That's 'cause you've never had the real deal.' Before she can fire back, he's hooking those panties off, sliding them down like it's nothing. Reminds her about those tricky zones, and damn if Gina's got a single excuse to shut him down. Finally, he sinks his dick deep inside her—pure, pounding relief, exactly what her body's been screaming for.