The dusky come-hither aura is butchered when Rose tips her head back and barks a laugh. “Who indeed! How gracious of you!”
Still giggling, though careful not to jostle too much (can’t have Pearl scalding herself with tea), Rose sets about with soothing, careful dollops of pressure along the scant meat of one calf. She’s immediately annoyed with the towel. Ugh. A massage should be full of long, languid, sweeping strokes -- soft oils, and rounded heat -- lovely waves of rolling touch that wring lush, royal sounds from the object of attention.
Which… well. That isn’t to say she can’t win some lovely noises now, even with a towel in the way. Rose simply makes a self-note to shape intimate conditions with greater care, in the future. (And to pick up some nice lavender oil.)
It’s simple enough, letting her hands work in slow, loving circuits into Pearl’s muscles. But she can certainly see how this can become tiring; Rose is a thespian, not a masseuse. “I’ll bet you’re sore from dance,” she coos, watching her hands. And because she kind of wants to see how good a job she’s doing -- how much or how little Pearl’s legs have relaxed -- she adds, a touch airy, “Did Jasper play nice?”
no subject
Still giggling, though careful not to jostle too much (can’t have Pearl scalding herself with tea), Rose sets about with soothing, careful dollops of pressure along the scant meat of one calf. She’s immediately annoyed with the towel. Ugh. A massage should be full of long, languid, sweeping strokes -- soft oils, and rounded heat -- lovely waves of rolling touch that wring lush, royal sounds from the object of attention.
Which… well. That isn’t to say she can’t win some lovely noises now, even with a towel in the way. Rose simply makes a self-note to shape intimate conditions with greater care, in the future. (And to pick up some nice lavender oil.)
It’s simple enough, letting her hands work in slow, loving circuits into Pearl’s muscles. But she can certainly see how this can become tiring; Rose is a thespian, not a masseuse. “I’ll bet you’re sore from dance,” she coos, watching her hands. And because she kind of wants to see how good a job she’s doing -- how much or how little Pearl’s legs have relaxed -- she adds, a touch airy, “Did Jasper play nice?”