Atrapados en el baño del estudio

The moment I stepped into the massage studio for my appointment, the air thickened with old heat. Lena stood behind the reception desk in tight black scrubs that hugged every curve I used to worship. My ex. The woman whose pussy I still dreamed about. Her eyes locked on mine, pupils flaring with the same raw hunger that hit me like a punch.

"Liam," she breathed, voice low and smoky. "You're my three o'clock."

The studio was quiet, just soft music and the faint scent of lavender oil. She led me down a narrow hallway to a private room with a wide massage table, dim lights, and a door that locked from inside.

"I didn't know you worked here," I said, already peeling off my shirt. My cock twitched against my jeans at the sight of her bending to adjust the table, that juicy ass stretching the fabric.

She glanced back, biting her lip. "Been six months. Thought I could handle seeing you again." Her fingers brushed my bare chest as she turned me toward the table. "Lie down. Face up."

The explicit pull between us snapped fast. Her hands oiled up and slid over my shoulders, then down my chest, thumbs circling my nipples until I groaned. Tension crackled. When her palm pressed flat against my growing bulge, neither of us pretended anymore.

"Still get so fucking hard for me," Lena whispered, squeezing through my pants. "God, I missed this dick."

I sat up, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her close. Our mouths crashed together, tongues urgent and wet. She tasted like mint and forbidden memories. My hands roamed under her scrubs, finding bare skin, no bra, her heavy tits spilling into my palms. I pinched her nipples until she gasped into my mouth.

"Here?" I growled against her neck, sucking lightly.

"Can't wait." She tugged me off the table, breath ragged. "Quick. The toilet. No one uses it during sessions."

We stumbled into the tiny attached bathroom, door clicking shut behind us. The space was cramped, clean white tiles, a narrow sink, and a toilet with the lid down. She shoved me against the wall, yanking my jeans open. My thick cock sprang free, veins pulsing, already leaking at the tip.

Lena dropped her scrubs in one motion, kicking them aside. Her shaved pussy glistened, lips swollen and slick. No panties. She turned, braced her hands on the sink, and arched that perfect ass toward me. "Touch me first. Like you used to. Fingers only. Make me drip."

I stepped close, the heat of her body radiating. My fingers traced her spine, then dipped between her cheeks, spreading her wetness. She was soaked. I circled her clit slowly, teasing, feeling it throb under my fingertip. Two fingers slid inside her tight pussy, curling, stroking that spot that always made her legs shake.

"Oh shit... yes, right there," she moaned, pushing back. Her walls clenched around me, hot and silky. I pumped deeper, thumb pressing her clit in steady circles. The wet sounds echoed off the tiles, obscene and loud in the small room. Her juices coated my hand, dripping down her thighs.

She reached back, gripping my cock, stroking me in time with my fingers. "I need you inside. Now. Fuck me against the toilet."

I spun her, sat on the closed lid, and pulled her onto my lap facing me. Her knees settled on either side of my hips. She lowered herself, guiding my cockhead to her entrance. We both watched as her pussy stretched around my thickness, inch by inch, until I was buried balls-deep in her heat.

"Fuck, you're so tight," I hissed, hands on her ass, spreading her wider. She rolled her hips in slow, grinding circles, her clit rubbing my base with every move. The position let me feel every flutter inside her. I thrust up gently at first, then harder, the slap of skin on skin filling the toilet.

Lena's tits bounced in my face. I caught one nipple with my mouth, sucking hard while my fingers dug into her firm ass, guiding her faster. She rode me with building urgency, pussy gripping like a vice, cream coating my shaft and balls.

"Harder, Liam... make me cum on your cock." Her voice cracked, forehead pressed to mine. Sweat beaded between us. I bucked up roughly, hitting deep, the toilet creaking under us. Her breathing turned to desperate whimpers.

She came first, pussy spasming wildly, flooding my lap with fresh wetness. Her nails raked my shoulders. "I'm cumming... oh god, don't stop!"

I flipped her around, bending her over the sink again. This time I took her from behind, fast and deep, one hand tangled in her hair, the other reaching around to rub her clit. The mirror showed everything: her flushed face, mouth open in ecstasy, my cock disappearing into her slick folds over and over.

Her second orgasm hit harder. She cried out, body shaking, pussy milking me until I couldn't hold back. I pulled out at the last second, stroking furiously. Thick ropes of cum painted her ass and lower back, dripping down her crack.

We panted in the small space, hearts hammering. She turned, kissed me softly, a wicked smile on her lips. "That was overdue."

The next morning I woke in my own bed, sunlight slicing through the blinds. I made coffee, black and strong, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. My phone buzzed. Lena.

"Last night was insane. Can't stop thinking about your fingers in me."

I grinned, sipping the hot brew. In the mirror by the door I caught my reflection, faint red marks on my shoulders from her nails. The memory of her riding me on that toilet lid made my cock stir again.

Another text: "Same time next week? This time maybe we skip the massage table entirely."

I typed back quickly. "Only if we lock the toilet door again. And you wear those scrubs with nothing underneath."

The three dots danced. "Deal. Bring that big cock. I want round two against the sink."

I took another slow sip, the steam rising, wondering how long we'd pretend this was just old tension before it became something more. But for now, the heat in my veins and the ache in my muscles were enough. Her scent still lingered on my skin, faint lavender mixed with pure sex.