Chapter 22

A few soft lamps lit up the massage room, casting a warm glow over the wood floor and the table where Brit lay—completely naked, dripping, and ready to be spoiled.

She was face down, blonde hair spilling through the face cradle, her bare back shiny with massage oil. A thick, wet string of pussy juice clung between her folds and the cushion. Not subtle. Not shy. Just Brit, fully in it.

She let out a long, satisfied exhale as Fab worked over her shoulders. And yeah—her pussy kept dripping like a leaky faucet.

Fab looked like a pro. His hands were huge, steady, smooth as hell. His tribal ink flexed with every movement. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t trying to show off. He was just ... in control. The kind of guy who could touch your body like he owned it, and somehow make that feel like a compliment.

I hadn’t expected anything too special when Kari called this a “gift,” but damn. Fab wasn’t just hot—he was the real deal. Guy had the vibe of a calm sex god who moonlighted as a five-star spa technician.

Ken stood next to me, his hand brushing mine. Kari leaned against Ellie’s shoulder, both of them watching Brit with those soft, proud little smiles. Brit looked like she was floating.

“Oh my sweet Lord,” she muttered, kind of laughing, kind of moaning.

“She’s glowing,” Kari whispered.

“She fucking deserves this,” Ken said, voice low. “After everything ... yeah. She deserves to be pampered a little.”

He slid his fingers into mine. I squeezed back.

Ellie smiled and glanced at Fab. “You teach this stuff?”

Fab gave a little chuckle, hands never stopping. “I do. Massage, intimacy, sex techniques. One-on-one, couples, groups ... you name it.”

Brit gave a lazy giggle. “This feels ... unreal,” she murmured. “All of you here. I’ve never felt so good.”

The room went quiet for a beat, but it wasn’t awkward. It was like we were all just ... tuned in.

“Then let’s stay here,” Fab said. “As long as you want.”

His hands moved to her ass, kneading her like he was sculpting something valuable. Brit groaned deep in her throat, hips rolling slightly.

Then, with this smooth, gentle move, he helped her roll onto her back.

She didn’t hesitate. Just flipped over and propped herself up, her hair falling over one shoulder. She locked eyes with him for a second. No words, just that little smile you give someone when they’ve already earned your full attention.

And holy shit—she was glowing.

Her nipples were rock hard, pointing up like they were looking for trouble. Her skin was flushed, glistening with sweat and oil. Fab poured more warm oil across her chest and belly and started rubbing it in, slow and deep.

At this point, it barely looked like a massage. It looked like foreplay with a license.

Brit’s mouth opened in a soft O. She made this sound—half purr, half moan—and honestly, I felt it in my spine.

We didn’t say a word. Just stood there watching. Not just turned on—invested. This was Brit. Our Brit. And she was being touched like she was priceless.

Somewhere in all this chaos, we’d fallen for her. And watching her be adored like this just felt right.

Ellie stepped closer and gently brushed the hair from Brit’s face...

“You’re gorgeous,” Ellie whispered, leaning down to kiss Brit’s soft, parted lips.

Brit’s eyes softened at the sound of her voice. She smiled up at her girlfriend, fully present, soaking up every drop of love in the room.

Fab’s hands never stopped moving. He skimmed lightly over Brit’s arms, her collarbone, her thighs—slow, deliberate, totally in control. No hesitation, no hurry. Just confident care, like he already knew what her body needed.

And the air between them? It buzzed. Not just from Fab. From all of us. We were locked in—together.

“She looks like a goddess,” Ken murmured from behind Kari.

Kari nodded. “It’s like ... watching love in motion.”

Okay, full disclosure: we were all a tiny bit high. Not baked out of our minds, but ... yeah. Floaty. Fuzzy. Beautifully fucked-up in the best way.

Anyway—back to Brit.

She let out a slow breath, like her whole body was letting go. Her muscles melted into the table as Fab worked lower, hands spreading warmth like magic. “I’ve never felt like this,” she whispered, voice thick and dreamy. “This is heaven.”

Ellie reached for her hand and held it. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured. “He’s so beautiful. His hands on you like this ... oh God, it’s wonderful.”

Fab’s hands glided lower, down Brit’s sides, coaxing sweet little sighs from her lips. This wasn’t just massage anymore—it had tipped into something else. Something deeper. Brit’s eyes fluttered closed, her whole body alive with sensation.

“Ooh God...” she gasped, her hips twitching as Fab’s thumbs reached her mound and gently slipped between her lips. When his fingers parted her pussy and touched her just right, she let out a sob that wasn’t sad—it was too full, too much.

Ellie climbed onto the table behind her, folding her legs beneath her and wrapping Brit in a soft, naked hug. Brit leaned back, resting against Ellie’s breasts like they were the only safe place on earth. Ellie kissed her neck, then along her shoulder, whispering, “You’re so beautiful like this.”

Brit just melted into her, trembling from all the love and pleasure pouring into her at once. Fab’s hands never left her pussy—soft strokes, tiny circles, enough to make her heart stutter and her whole mind go white-hot.

The rest of us stood there, watching quietly. Me, Ken, Kari. We didn’t say a word. But I know we were all feeling it.

“She’s coming,” I whispered.

And then she did. Her body quivered. A gush of juice spilled from her soft, pink slit. Ellie kissed her neck harder, played with her tits, pinched those already-stiff nipples while Fab leaned in and kissed her lips—slow and tender, like they had all the time in the world.

Ellie rested her cheek against Brit’s back, holding her close while Fab’s hands stayed in sync with her breath. He looked up and met Ellie’s eyes, and something passed between them—silent, intimate, trusting.

Fab slid his hands under Brit’s hips and pulled her down, positioning her right at the edge of the table. Ellie scooted forward with her, becoming her support again—her anchor.

“Just breathe, baby,” Ellie whispered, “let us take care of you.”