Let’s oil her up

With a simple thought time slows around you to a crawl, and then a complete stop. You soon catch up to her — she did not get particularly far during your ruminations, hobbled as she is. You unhurriedly circle her. She’s mid-stride, hardly two feet into the safety of the narrow alleyway, which turns another corner up ahead and runs behind the row of houses lining the main street.

“Mhm, mhm, mhm, milady, how about a complementary massage?”

Not waiting for an answer you’re unlikely to receive anyway, you rustle in your pack and retrieve a bottle of fragrant oil you’ve saved for just such an occasion. You pour a generous amount into your palms, rub it between them, and then set to work.

Your hands begin to explore the expansive tableau of exposed skin before you, working it over the knight’s body with slow, deliberate strokes. You start at her shoulders and collarbones, meticulously working down until her skin gleams in the sunlight. Your hands roam around, gliding across her full, heavy breasts, cupping and squeezing them at your leisure. Every pass of your moistened hands produces a lewd schlick sound, as your fingers cup and knead into the soft, warm flesh of her tits, leaving them glossy and coated. You tweak her erect nipples — oh, you know for sure she’s secretly enjoying this whole experience — and move down across her toned stomach, across the curves of her hips and the dip between her legs.

With a fresh dose of liquid poured between your hands, you fingers move down to the shadowed valley of her crotch, thoroughly rubbing along her every fold and crease, until she’s dripping wet, with rivulets of slick oil running down her legs. Oh, how pleasurable will it be, to see her body react to all these sensations once time is flowing.

You circle back behind her. You liberally pour a thick stream straight from the bottle into the very top of her asscrack, spreading her firm cheeks and working the glistening substance into every intimate inch. The sun dapples the pale skin of her ass. The oil audibly squelches with every pass, squish and stroke, massaging the oil into the curve of her hiney. You step back to admire your handiwork: A reflective, erotic canvas of moist pink skin, so shamelessly inviting the onlooker’s touch. And how can you not? You give her butt an appreciative pinch, and slide your hands around her chest for a final possessive grope.