“You need to relax,” Bella said, flicking her straw like she was stirring mischief into my latte.
I rolled my eyes, sipping mine in silence.
“No, seriously, Mia,” she continued, leaning across the café table. “You’re walking around like your pussy hasn’t been touched since lockdown. You’re stressed. Your back’s stiff. And don’t get me started on those thighs — girl, they’re just begging for someone’s hands.”
“Okay, wow,” I laughed, cheeks burning.
She grinned. “So I booked you a massage. Tonight. 7 PM. Don’t argue.”
“Wait. You what?”
“It’s non-refundable, so shut up and go,” she said, sliding me a folded piece of paper. “Aqua Touch Spa. Room three. And yes—it’s the good kind.”
“The good kind?”
She winked. “The kind where your towel might slip.”
The Spa
That evening, I stood frozen outside the spa. A quiet little place nestled between a wine bar and an art gallery. Elegant, intimate lighting glowed from inside. I pushed open the glass door, pretending I wasn’t nervous.
The receptionist smiled too knowingly. “Ah, Mia. Welcome. Room three is ready. You can change and lie down under the towel. Your masseur will be with you shortly.”
Masseur.
Not a masseuse.
Of course Bella would send me straight into temptation with a man.
I slipped into the room. Warm golden light. Soft music. The scent of sandalwood and jasmine. I undressed slowly, my skin humming with anticipation. Naked except for the small, plush towel around my hips, I lay face-down on the massage table, heart pounding in my ears.
Then the door opened.
“Good evening, Mia,” said a calm, masculine voice. “I’m Leon.”
The Massage Begins
He sounded smooth. Confident.
I didn’t dare lift my head, but I could hear his footsteps circling me. Then I felt the first touch — warm oil dripping onto my back, followed by strong hands spreading it across my shoulders.
Slow, firm strokes. Down my spine. Circular motions at the base of my back.
I let out a soft sigh.
“You carry a lot of tension,” he murmured.
You have no idea.
His hands moved lower. Over the curve of my hips. To my upper thighs. The towel shifted, almost slipping.
He adjusted it delicately. Or maybe he pretended to adjust it.
His thumbs pressed into the back of my thighs… then slightly inward. I sucked in a breath. My pussy clenched instinctively. I was already getting wet — too wet.
My nipples brushed the towel below me. Hard. My breathing quickened.
And then came the question.
“Would you like me to go a bit deeper?”
His voice was velvet. Temptation in syllables.
“…Yes,” I whispered.
The Touch That Crossed the Line
His fingers were like magic — gliding, teasing, circling my clit until my hips started to grind against his hand. Every time he brushed over my swollen pussy lips, my body reacted — hungry, trembling, dripping.
Then he did something that made my whole body freeze.
He leaned down, his voice close to my ear.
“Would you like more than fingers?”
I couldn’t speak.
My lips parted, but all that came out was a whimper.
His fingers slipped out of my wet pussy, and I already missed the stretch. I turned my head slightly, my cheek pressing against the warm towel.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Please…”
I heard the sound of a zipper.
My heart skipped.
And then… I felt it.
The hot, thick head of his cock nudging at my entrance. He rubbed it slowly along my pussy slit, coating it in my slick pussy juice, teasing my clit with just the tip.
I gasped. “Oh my god…”
“Shh…” he murmured. “Just relax for me.”
He placed one hand on my lower back, gently pressing me into the table, while the other guided his hard cock right to my dripping opening.
I held my breath as he pushed forward.
Slow.
Thick.
Stretching me.
My pussy lips parted around him, taking inch after inch. My legs tensed, but I couldn’t stop moaning.
“Mmm, fuck… you’re so tight,” he groaned, burying his cock deep inside me.
I felt every inch of him — thick, warm, pulsing — sliding in, filling me completely. My toes curled, my fingernails dug into the table.
He stayed deep for a moment, letting me feel it.
Then he started to move.
Long, slow thrusts.
Pulling almost all the way out, then plunging back in, making the table creak beneath me. I moaned louder with each thrust, my pussy clenching around him.
The room smelled like oil, sex, and pussy juice.
He grabbed my hips, guiding my ass back against his thrusts. My wetness was dripping down my thighs, every slap of skin echoing through the dim room.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growled into my ear.
I cried out as he hit that perfect spot inside me.
Again.
And again.
My clit throbbed, swollen and desperate.
He reached around and rubbed it while fucking me from behind — hard now, relentless. I could barely hold myself up on the table. My body was shaking, hot, burning with need.
And then… I came.
Hard.
I screamed into the pillow as my pussy clenched around his cock, juices spilling, thighs shaking, ass jerking back as my orgasm ripped through me.
But he didn’t stop.
He fucked me through it, gripping my hips tighter, thrusting faster until I heard him gasp — and then I felt it.
Warm, thick cum shooting inside me, filling my already soaked pussy.
He held me there, deep and full, both of us panting, bodies slick with sweat and oil and everything in between.
💦 Aftershock and Squirting
His cock stayed deep inside me for a few more seconds, pulsing gently, still hard even after cumming inside my pussy.
I could feel it — his cum warm and thick, mixing with my own pussy juice, oozing out slowly as he pulled out with a low, satisfied groan.
I gasped when I felt the air hit my soaked, stretched hole.
My legs were trembling. My body was buzzing. But something inside me was still on fire.
And Leon noticed.
He placed one hand gently on the small of my back and leaned in close. “You didn’t fully let go yet,” he whispered.
I was about to say, “Are you serious?”
But his hand slid back between my legs — slowly, deliberately — two fingers plunging back into my sensitive, cum-filled pussy.
“Ahh—fuck!” I cried out. I was already overstimulated, and now his fingers were working fast, slipping in and out, rubbing my clit with his palm. The oil, the cum, my wetness — it was everywhere, making loud squelching sounds as he worked me.
“You’re about to squirt, aren’t you?” he whispered. “Let me feel it. Let it go…”
I moaned, shaking my head — but I was so close again.
My whole body tensed.
The pressure in my belly twisted, tight and hot and impossible to stop. My legs started to buck. My thighs snapped shut around his wrist. And then—
It exploded.
“F-fuck! I’m—!”
My entire body convulsed as a massive stream of pussy juice squirted out of me, splashing against his hand, the table, even dripping to the floor.
I screamed his name, my voice cracking, barely able to breathe.
Wet. Messy. Wild.
I collapsed onto the table, twitching. My pussy still pulsing, the scent of sex thick in the air. Leon slowly eased his fingers out, now completely drenched.
He grabbed a warm towel and gently cleaned between my legs — soaking up cum, squirt, and slickness from my thighs and folds. His touch was careful now. Tender.
“You squirted so beautifully,” he said softly. “Felt like your body needed that.”
I nodded weakly. “I’ve… I’ve never done that before.”
He smiled. “First of many, I hope.”
🌙 The Come-Down
Leon stepped out of the room, leaving me alone to breathe.
I lay there for a moment, utterly destroyed and glowing.
My hair was a mess. My thighs were soaked. The towel between my legs was ruined. But I didn’t care. My body had never felt this alive — this free, this wrecked, this satisfied.
I finally sat up and reached for my phone with shaking fingers.
A message was already waiting.
🟢 Bella: “Soooo… did he hit the right spot?” 😏
🟢 Bella: “I heard squirt therapy is a thing now.”
I laughed out loud and sent back:
🔴 Me: “YOU. ARE. EVIL.”
🔴 Me: “I came so hard I lost track of my name. Twice. And I f*cking squirted.”
🟢 Bella: “Yesssss. Welcome to the club 💦🔥”
I stared at myself in the mirror as I dressed — face flushed, eyes glowing, skin dewy, thighs still sticky. I looked wrecked. Beautifully wrecked.
And one thought kept echoing in my mind:
I need to book another appointment.