Another Mistaken Identity!

Moka's chilling poolside, sipping drinks and catching rays, looking damn fine in her bikini. Up struts Aiden Ashley, all smiles and charm, introducing herself before plopping down for a chat. Sneaky as hell, Aiden slips a free massage coupon into Moka's purse, betting she'll show. Fast forward—Moka strolls into the salon, spots Aiden, and blurts, 'Hey, have we met?' Aiden plays it cool, shrugging like it's no big deal: her staff litters those coupons everywhere. But hey, she's free right now. Want that rubdown? Moka's eyes light up—hell yeah. 'Should I strip?' she asks. Aiden grins: go for it. Moka hesitates, all shy-like, 'Uh, changing room?' Sorry, babe, rooms are packed, but Aiden swears she won't peek. Moka peels off her clothes, slides onto the table face down, heart probably racing. Aiden slicks her up with oil and dives in, zero warm-up—her hands zero in on that huge, juicy ass, kneading deep. Moka jolts: 'Whoa, is this standard?' Aiden chuckles, shifting to those full tits, palms gliding over the soft curves. 'Totally part of my special routine, sweetie—just melt into it.' She works the inner thighs, legs splayed, inching bolder toward that sweet spot. Fingers brush the clit, rubbing circles that make Moka's breath hitch. She pops up to gripe, but Aiden's smooth: 'Easy, arch like that and you miss the full buzz.' Then—bam—one finger slides into her wet pussy. Moka tenses for a sec, then sighs, finally letting go and riding the wave.