El Aroma de Vainilla

The massage studio smelled of eucalyptus and clean linen, but all I could smell was her. Maya. She was bent over the low table, adjusting a towel, and the thin strap of her tank top slipped down her shoulder. I hadn't seen her in three years, and my mouth went dry.

"Liam," she said, not turning around. "You're late."

"Traffic." I closed the door behind me. The lock clicked with a sound that felt louder than it should have been.

She finally turned, and her eyes did that thing they always did—dropping to my chest, lingering, then meeting mine. A slow smile. "Strip down and lie face down. We'll start with your back."

I didn't argue. The sheet was cool against my skin as I settled on the table, face turned to the side. Her hands found my shoulders, and I flinched at the warmth of her touch.

"Relax," she murmured, working her thumbs into the knots at my neck. "You're tense."

"No tienes idea."

She laughed, low and throaty. Her palms glided down my spine, pressing hard, and I felt the familiar heat coil in my belly. Three years of silence, of "we're better apart," of pretending I didn't dream about her—and here she was, oiling my skin with practiced, intimate strokes.

"Turn over," she said, her voice softer now.

I did. And there it was—the unmistakable bulge straining against the towel she'd ordered me to wear. She looked at it, then at me, and her tongue darted across her lower lip.

"Missed me, huh?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

She laughed again, but this time she didn't reach for my shoulders. Instead, she tugged the towel loose, letting it fall to the floor. Her fingers wrapped around my cock, slow, deliberate, and I sucked in a breath.

"Still big," she whispered, stroking me from base to tip. "Still thick."

"Maya..."

She shushed me, sliding her hand lower to cup my balls, her thumb tracing a lazy circle. "I've thought about this. About you. About how you used to fuck me on my desk after hours."

I reached for her, pulling her onto the table, her knees straddling my hips. The thin cotton of her shorts pressed against my aching length, and I could feel the heat radiating from her.

"Those need to go," I said, my voice rough.

She didn't argue. She pushed her shorts and panties down in one fluid motion, and my breath caught. Her pussy was completely bare—smooth, waxed, glistening with need. The sight of it hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Waxed for you," she breathed, grinding against me. "I always waxed for you."

I ran my thumb along her slit, feeling the slickness, the heat. She moaned, her head falling back, her dark hair brushing my thighs.

"Fuck, you're wet."

"You make me wet, Liam. You always have."

I needed to taste her. I gripped her hips, lifting her, and she understood—she shifted forward until her cunt hovered over my mouth. I buried my face in her, licking from her entrance to her clit, slow and greedy.

She cried out, her fingers fisting in my hair. "Yes... oh, God, yes..."

I sucked her clit into my mouth, flicking it with my tongue, and she bucked against me, riding my face with abandon. Her thighs trembled around my head.

"I'm close," she gasped. "Don't stop... please, don't stop..."

I didn't. I pushed two fingers inside her, curling them, and she shattered with a broken sob, her hips grinding against my hand as she came.

Before she could recover, I flipped her onto her back. Her legs spread wide, and I positioned myself at her entrance, the bare lips of her pussy parted, ready.

—Mírame —dije.

She did. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

"Tell me you want it."

"I want it," she whispered. "I want you inside me, Liam. Fuck me."

I pushed in, and she gasped, her walls clenching around me. She was tight, so fucking tight, and I had to pause, panting, to keep from coming right there.

"God, you feel even better than I remember," I groaned.

"Move," she demanded, digging her nails into my shoulders. "Move, you bastard."

I did. Slow at first, dragging out of her almost to the tip before slamming back in, watching her tits bounce with every thrust. She moaned, a litany of "yes" and "more" and "don't stop," and I picked up the pace, pounding into her hard enough to make the table creak.

Her legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my ass. "Harder," she begged. "Fucking harder—"

I drove into her, deep and relentless, and she cried out, her body shuddering beneath me. Her pussy gripped me like a fist, and I felt my own release building, hot and inevitable.

"I'm going to come," I warned.

"Inside me," she gasped. "Come inside me, Liam... I want to feel it."

That did it. I buried myself to the hilt and came with a guttural groan, pumping into her, my cock twitching as I spilled into her slick heat. She moaned, her inner muscles milking me, and I collapsed on top of her, breathless, trembling.

We lay there, tangled and slick with sweat, the only sound our ragged breathing. The eucalyptus oil had long since evaporated, replaced by the scent of her perfume and sex.

Her hand found my hair, stroking gently. "Three years," she whispered. "What the hell took you so long?"

I pressed my lips to her shoulder. "I'm here now."

She sighed, content, and I felt her heartbeat slow against my chest. We didn't need words. We just needed this—the silence, the warmth, the quiet understanding that some things never really end.

CATEGORIES: [Massage, Ex-Girlfriend, Shaved pussy, Vanilla, Sensual massage]