Mid-Massage Tug Sesh

Brian's sprawled out on the table, getting this killer massage from Chloe, this smoking hot babe with killer hands. Damn, she works those knots like a pro, and her curves? Pure distraction. Feels so damn good he can't help it—bam, full-on boner alert. Just when he's sweating bullets on how to hide it, her phone rings. Urgent call, she bolts from the room. Score. Brian doesn't waste a second. He grabs his throbbing cock and starts stroking hard, lost in the rhythm, eyes shut, chasing that release. Doesn't even hear the door creak open. Chloe's back, and she catches the whole show—his fist pumping away like a man on a mission. Heat rushes straight to her core. She slips a hand into her shorts, fingers circling her slick clit, biting her lip to stay quiet. But nah, pleasure hits too strong. She gasps, loud and needy. Brian's eyes snap open. Busted. They're both red-faced, stammering excuses. But the air's thick with tension, that electric 'fuck it' vibe. Why stop now? Grins spread, clothes fly off. He pins her down, thrusts deep into her tight heat, pounding with that pent-up fire. She moans, nails digging in, wrapping her legs around him as they chase the big finish together—sweaty, raw, and oh-so-satisfying.