Nocturnal Massage

Abella Danger struts into the kitchen, spotting Codey Steele there. 'Morning, stud,' she chirps, flashing a wicked grin. 'Sleep okay?' Codey yawns, rubbing his eyes. 'Nah, wiped out. Got this weird bump on my shoulder—hell if I know where it came from.' She plays it cool, shrugging like it's no big deal. 'Huh, that's odd.' He shifts, looking awkward. 'Hey, can I bounce something off you?' 'Shoot,' she says, leaning in all casual. 'Alright, used to have this issue—I'm a sleepwalker. Yeah, I roam around dead to the world. Weirder still? I give massages in my sleep. Hasn't hit in years, so I kept my mouth shut when I moved in. But this bump? Makes me think I'm at it again, maybe roughed myself up. You notice me rubbing you down last night?' Abella keeps a straight face, though her mind's racing with dirty thoughts. 'Nope, all good.' He nods. 'Cool. If I ever crash your space like that, just splash water on me—snaps me right out.' She amps it up, eyes wide in fake shock. 'Massaging in your sleep? That's next-level freaky. Do you slather on oil or some kinky shit? That'd crank the weird to eleven.' Codey chuckles. 'Guess if oil's on my hands, I'd work it in without thinking.' Her brain lights up—jackpot ideas incoming. Over the next few nights, it's montage magic: Abella milks those free rubs like a pro. One go, Codey shuffles in; she's got oil warming up. She slicks his palms generous and flips belly-down just as his hands drop like clockwork, gliding smooth over her back. Next round, she sneaks her face under those descending mitts—boom, instant facial, his fingers kneading her cheeks, jaw, all tension melting. Then it's toes in the spotlight: she props her feet up, and he digs in deep, thumbs pressing arches till she moans low. Every itch scratched, she's grinning ear-to-ear—best damn roommate perk ever. But one night, shit shifts. Abella's soaking up another midnight knead session when Codey mumbles, 'Mmm, you're so pretty,' and his hands veer south, groping for her tits. She swats him quick, no hesitation—grabs the bedside glass and douses his face. He jolts awake, blinking wild. 'What the—where am I? Why am I...?' Total confusion city. 'You were giving me a massage, sleepyhead,' she says, towel in hand. Codey's beet red, stammering apologies. 'Shit, I'm so sorry. Can't believe this.' He eyes her. 'This the first time?' 'Totally!' she fibs smooth, though she's been riding this train for days. 'Was gonna spill in the morning.' He sighs. 'Won't happen again. Bet you want me gone now, like my last roommate.' She shakes her head, all reassuring vibes. 'Nah, stay put.' He's dubious. 'For real? Everyone else booted my ass.' 'I'm not them,' she insists. 'Won't pull that crap.' Innocent as a puppy, he asks, 'So you don't think I'm a total freak?' She laughs. 'Freak? Please. High school kids ragged on me 'cause my tits popped early—called me the boob monster. Own your weird; it's harmless.' He smirks. 'Those jerks? They'd beg to tangle sheets with you now.' She blushes cute, batting lashes. 'Aw, sweet talker. Point is, we all got quirks. Could be way worse—like you're not jacking banks in your PJs. Massages beat that felony rap any day.' He beams. 'You're the ultimate roomie.' They pull into a hug. It lingers, heat building electric. Codey pulls back first. 'Quick question—no one's ever said: am I any good at this rubbing gig?' She smirks, lying through her teeth. 'Only caught a tease before I stopped you, but damn, those hands? Magic. Strong as hell.' Then she giggles. 'Though you got a tad grabby!' He cringes, sorry spilling out. 'God, I'm an idiot—' She cuts him off, voice dropping flirty. 'Hey, no apologies. Kinda dug it.' Pauses, eyes locking. 'Just hated your eyes being shut. I like my guys wide awake, staring hungry while they fuck me senseless.' He gulps hard. 'Fuck... as in?' She snags his hand, tugging close. 'We're both up now, buzzing. Why waste it? Just stay sharp—no snoozing on the job.'