Accidental Appointment

Addison is wiping down the counter when the oil bottle slips. Slick liquid shoots across the reception desk and soaks straight through her thin blouse. The receptionist peels the clinging fabric away from her skin. The brunette masseuse apologizes, hands her clean scrubs, and slips out with the dirty clothes in a bundle. Addison changes in the back room, bare skin prickling in the cool air. The door opens. A walk-in, Isa Bella, walks in looking for her appointment. She sees Addison in scrubs and decides the brunette must be her masseuse. Isa strips without another word, stretches out face-down on the table, soft brown curves shifting under warm light. Addison’s hands hesitate for only a second before she pours fresh oil across Isa’s shoulders. She works slowly, thumbs pressing long lines down the spine, then circling the small of the back where skin tightens. Her fingers glide lower, sweeping along the sides of Isa’s waist, brushing the outer swell of natural breasts pressed to the table. Every pass draws a quiet sigh from the woman beneath her. Addison’s own pulse quickens; the room smells of sweet almond and skin. She leans in, strokes traveling the backs of Isa’s thighs, slipping close to heat before drifting away again. When the real masseuse returns, Isa lifts her head and murmurs that she doesn’t want to stop. The woman shrugs, grabs her bag, and leaves them to it. Alone again, Isa turns onto her back, dark eyes playful. “You’ve earned a tip,” she says, guiding Addison’s slippery hand between parted thighs. Addison doesn’t need more invitation. She slides two fingers through slick folds, finds the swollen nub, circles it with steady pressure while Isa’s hips roll into every stroke. Soft gasps turn into low moans; Isa’s nipples tighten, breasts rising and falling fast. Addison watches, breath caught, rubbing tighter circles until Isa’s thighs tremble and her climax rolls through her in long, sweet waves. Oil-slick fingers keep moving gently until the last quiver fades.