Bed And Backrubs

Sylvie rolls into this cozy BnB after a long haul across the country, dead tired but buzzing with that road-trip high. The owner, Celia, grabs her bag with a sly grin and leads her upstairs to the bedroom. Boom—there's a massage table smack in the middle, draped in fresh sheets. Sylvie's eyes widen. What's this? Celia chuckles, leaning in close. 'Welcome to Bed and Backrubs, honey. I spice up the usual snooze-fest with a free full-body rubdown for every guest. Your tension's got nowhere to hide tonight.' Sylvie laughs, her cheeks flushing. Hell yeah, she's in. She strips down, slips under the towel, and settles face-down on that table. Celia's hands are magic—strong, warm, kneading out every knot from Sylvie's shoulders down her back. The oil slicks over her skin, and soon Sylvie's spilling her guts. Turns out, this solo jaunt's her reset button after dumping her fiancé. 'Needed space to figure out what I really want,' she murmurs, voice muffled against the pillow. Celia's touch slows, her fingers lingering just a beat too long on Sylvie's hips. The air thickens with that electric hum. Celia's voice drops low, husky. 'Sounds like you deserve a real pick-me-up.' She flips the script, offering a happy ending that'll leave Sylvie grinning for miles. Sparks fly, and Celia's hands slide lower, teasing, promising to chase away the blues with a naughty finale that'll have her toes curling.