SpyTug – Scene: A095 Pic(s)
Her fingers found the tense muscles in his buttocks, kneading them with a practiced hand. He shifted slightly, a low moan escaping his lips. Anya paused, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. A knowing smile played on her lips. She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear.
“Relax,” she whispered, her voice a silken caress. Her fingers moved lower, finding the sensitive skin between his legs. She began to massage him gently, her touch growing bolder, more insistent. He gasped, his body arching involuntarily. Her fingers wrapped around him, her touch both tender and demanding. He closed his eyes, surrendering completely to the pleasure. The world narrowed to the feel of her hands, the rhythmic pressure, the building intensity. He was lost in the moment, the tension of his mission forgotten, replaced by a raw, primal need. The massage had become something far more intimate, far more intense.
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