Relaxation

“You're getting worked up just looking at my body, aren't you?” The current backseat mind, Jasmine Smith, mentally comments.

“Yeah… I'm guessing you're feeling the feedback right about now?” The mage smiles with his borrowed face.

“I am… could use some relief but … umm… would you mind?” the backseat mind pants, “I can't… but I need…” she trails off.

“I can help us out, sure…” the mage reaches down and grabs the lower edge of their T-shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it on the bed. He the reaches back and unhooks the bra, shedding it as well, and tossing it behind them.

The man takes a moment to enjoy the glorious G globes in the mirror, then hefts one to the shared mouth and wraps their lips around the tip, sucking with their throat and teasing with their tongue, moaning at the shared sensations. Keeping it up, he snakes the other hand down to her pants, rubbing the outside of her jeans, working them both up even more.

“Nightstand…” the lightly trapped mind thinks.

The mage takes the hint, milk tap still secured by suction, and checks the Nightstand drawer, finding a waterproof massage wand. He flicks it on, and reads the display as the buzzing fills the room: 75% charge. He pops the button and wiggles out of the woman's pants, putting the wand head over her cotton underwear at the lowest setting to start.

“More…” the mind in the back begs.

And the mage obliges, shimmying out of the cotton panties, and turning up the intensity. All too soon they're panting, moaning, and squirming… and the ring judges that his time is up, putting the woman back in control of her own body.

She doesn't stop the job, turning up the intensity until she screams.

As the currently white woman lays there naked, panting on the bed, she speaks up, “Okay, why does it feel better when you do it?”

“Same reason why you can't easily tickle yourself,” the mage, now in the back seat, mentally shrugs, “your brain knows you're doing it… and, well, I'm not running in your brain.”

“So, when I finally do let a man in…” Jasmine trails off.

“If he's good at his job, it will feel even better…” the ring pauses, “...although with a body like this, few men will be able to hold it in long enough to do a good job, so…” a mental shrug.

“Well,” the woman considers, “thank you, my phantom lover. But now I'm stuck with cleaning up.”

“Cleanup is a cantrip,” the mage chuckles, “I can fix up the bed and everything in a minute or two, if you don't mind my taking the driver's seat long enough to do it.”

“Just that long?” She raises an eyebrow.

“I'm going to get you dressed as well, and it's going to be nice to control where your eyes are pointing.” The ring has a lecherous tone.

“Go for it, then,” the woman chuckles…

…which becomes the mage's chuckle as he follows through, casting a quick spell to clean up the mess as he keeps her eyes glued to the mirror while he slips the panties over her mound, wiggles and jiggles her pants back on, wraps her bra around her chest like he's done it hundreds of times, and slips the T-shirt back on… all of which is fresh as a daisy thanks to the cleaning spell.

At which point, he puts Jasmine back in the driver's seat.