My Yoga Friend

Cali Carter's showing Gina Valentina these killer new yoga poses, but Gina? She's straight-up mesmerized by Cali's juicy ass, drooling like a puppy in heat. Cali tells her to get back-to-back for the next move, and Gina jumps at it, grinning like she just won the lottery. They grind those asses together, and Gina's face lights up with the smuggest, happiest smile imaginable. Session wraps, Cali thanks her for the invite—says it's a breath of fresh air changing up her workout spot. Gina's all, 'Come over anytime, babe,' then drops that she really wants to return the favor. Cali's clueless, like, what the hell does that even mean? Gina spins her around and dives right into a massage, hands all over. Cali's like, 'Uh, what's this about?' Gina smirks, 'You grind so hard in those workouts, you need this rubdown.' Cali admits, yeah, it's been ages since she got worked over like that. After a beat, she chills out, remembering Gina's legit a pro masseuse. Gina suggests stripping down for the full effect, and Cali's eyebrow shoots up—'Why the hell would I do that?' Gina plays it cool: 'Don't wanna wreck your yoga gear with all this oil, and come on, we're both chicks—it's not like I haven't scoped a naked body before.' Cali chuckles, shaking her head, 'I'm probably just being a prude.' Gina turns away for 'privacy,' but sneaks a peek over her shoulder, 'cause damn, she just craves that full-frontal view. Hands roam her legs and shoulders, slow, teasing strokes that build the heat. Then Gina flips up the towel hiding that ass, slicks her palms with oil, and dives in deep. Cali's tense at first, but as she melts into it, holy shit, it feels electric. Gina coos, 'Flip over for me,' and by then Cali's so fired up, she can't fight the pull—Gina's advances hit like a freight train she doesn't wanna dodge.