Complementary Massage

Chanel Preston's kicking back in her bathrobe, chilling in her hotel room, when bam—knock at the door. She peeks out and there's this stud Codey Steele, lugging a portable massage table like it's no big deal. He flashes that grin and says the hotel staff's hooking her up with a free massage 'cause she's been crashing there a few days and they wanna make her stay epic. Chanel's a little shy at first, cheeks flushing, but hell, free rubdown? Sign her up. Codey gets the table set up quick, all pro-like. Chanel slips off her robe and those panties, baring it all, feeling that thrill. His strong hands dive in, gliding over her back, her legs, working out every knot. She's moaning softly already, totally in bliss, thanking her lucky stars she didn't say no. Then Codey starts laying on the compliments—her smooth skin, those killer curves—his voice dropping low, clearly digging every inch. The air thickens, heat cranking up between them. Professional? Maybe, but who cares? She's eating it up, body tingling. Things heat up when his hands slide to her breasts, kneading them firm, then down to that plump ass, squeezing just right. Sparks fly; she can't ignore the buzz anymore. When his fingers brush her pussy, slick and ready, Chanel's all in for that happy ending. She melts as he dives between her legs, tongue working magic, lapping her up till she's writhing. But wait, there's more. She grabs his cock, hard and throbbing, guiding it in. He pounds away, turning her massage into a sweaty, heart-pounding fuck fest. She's gasping, loving every thrust—workout of the best kind. Damn, with service this filthy-good, she'll be booking this joint on repeat.