hexocain

The massage therapist's fingers draw their carefully choreographed lines from the neck up to the area where the skull bones have grown together. Like a hawk turns in the air, so the hands turn in a hat shape around the head globe while the massage therapist's thought already rests in her next move. While she removes the client's hair from his forehead, her palm strokes his skin. She caresses him. Just for a moment, a few seconds of accidental pleasure, but his breathing deepens, the warmth shoots up through her arm to her chest, the wave of closeness fills her body for a second and then disappears. She feverishly fumbles her way back into the