A Massage While You Wait

Brooklyn spots Charles zoning out while his wife’s hair sets. She offers a free shoulder rub to pass the time. London shrugs, pops in her earbuds, and goes back to her magazine. Brooklyn’s hands don’t stay innocent for long. She slides them lower, fishes his cock out, and strokes him right there in the salon chair—slow, slick, daring London to glance over. Charles is frozen, half-terrified, half-throbbing. Brooklyn grins, checks that London’s still distracted, then pulls him onto the slippery Nuru mat. She climbs on, tits gliding over every inch of him, oil shining on her big naturals. Before he can catch his breath she sinks down and rides him hard, taking every inch while London sits five feet away, clueless. One wrong sound and they’re fucked—in every sense.