Talk with Tiffany

You've been laying on a massage table for a few minutes, being kneaded & plied, when your former foe enters. Tiffany is fresh from a shower, wrapped in a bathrobe & hair towel. Sadly, it's too thick, it hides her round little booty & boobs.

"Oh hey John!"

"Hey again. You need a rub down?"

"No, I just came to stare at you some more."

"Heh heh heh." Smart ass.

Masseuse turns your head sideways & you groan. Schoolgirl moves herself back into your vision.

"How are we feeling then?" Hands on knees, bending over, giving you a cleavage window.

"Oh you know, sunshine & rainbows. See." You point her to a bruise around your neck, fading from violet to indigo to blue.

"So wear a turtleneck."

You laugh, a real laugh. You're flipped over, chest up, modesty towel barely doing it's job.

"& hide this?" Motioning to your abs. "Then you girls would have nothing to leer at."

"Except every other boy here, each other, any fucking person we want..."

"Nope, you'd miss me."

Tiff pokes her tongue out. You let your eyes fall shut & focus on your body's twisted healing. After how ever long, when your time is up, you slowly stand off the table. You slip on some pants as the Schoolgirl let's her robe slip off. Before you head off, there's something you need to ask.

"Seriously Tiff, how'd I do?"

"Honestly, you're doing fine. Your move set has variety & you fuck like a stallion."

You twitch.

"Only advice, you may want a gimmick. Consider who you'd rather meet, Tiffany or the Schoolgirl?"

That is something to think about, after her soft little moans fade away down the hallway.