18-year-old Flying Solo

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Olivia must have sensed her hesitation, because she said gently, “you don’t have to tell me now. The Greek god from before showed her to the same massage room (she couldn’t remember his actual name—Ken seemed to be the one that stuck no matter how hard she tried). I could tell from the moment you stepped into this room that you were trying to figure out if I’m attracted to you or not. When she looked to the doorway, Olivia was gone. She was, in short, a hot mess. Should I come back in another minute?”
Lydia shook her head and smiled, “It’s fine. She was definitely flustered, but it was hard to tell if she was embarrassed or aroused. Five minutes ago she had been scheming on how to manipulate the other woman into admitting that her sexual attentions had not been accidental, and Olivia had gone and given her an amazing orgasm that nobody in their right mind could pretend wasn’t on purpose.

18-year-old Flying Solo