Erotic massage for a man and a woman: is there any difference at all?

I stand on it,my hands slide over his skin,the oil smells of sandalwood, and the gold glistens like it melts here. His breathing tube gets bumpy,when I touch his ass,as if trying to survive a marathon. His dick is already in position, and I can feel my pussy starting to shiver in response to his fire. Then I close my eyes and dream that someone touches me:nipples,lower abdomen,inner thighs(well,you get what I want). And I'm flowing like I'm on the table.And he is an audience. Massage for Man and Me are two different movies,but both have a lot of action and a happy ending. In short, the buzz is the same, but the pitch is different. Now I will tell you why.

When a man receives a massage, it's all about strength and control. I pour oil, warm and soft(where there is real magic!), it flows down my back, enveloping my muscles like a vip blanket. My fingers move slowly,almost lazily."I'm the queen here, and you listen."He relaxes, but I know his dick is already like a volcano that will explode because I'm teasing him. I put light pressure on my hips,and he is breathing heavily, as if he is already running 100 meters. Guys is simple: they need to"wait and wait"to bang later. I almost touch the inside of my thigh there, but I don't touch the main character(as in the porn video with the teaser). He bends down, almost shouts, and I whisper."You're already tough, aren't you?"And I feel the"On" button go off. The reason my pussy pours is because looking high at him is like winning the lottery. He decides when to come, and turns on more than a new season of my favorite television show. I slowly got his dick in my hand, five days, the movement is like dancing, he screams as if he won the World Cup. High at both levels.

But when they give me a massage,it's a completely different series. It's all about trust and tenderness(and a little drama,who needs it). I imagine candles,the scent of ylang-ylang,warm oil,and a hand that knows how to read me. They start with warmth,relaxation, etc., but already there is fire inside me. His fingers run over my shoulders,then over my ribs,and I flinch when he touches my nipples(remember:the thrill is in the details). My pussy is already wet, but I don't want him to jump right into the main one—make fun of him, let him play"Find me". I need to feel like a queen, not an express delivery. His hand goes down on my ass and gently touches me and I moan like I've won the lottery. He whispers: "You're already flowing, aren't you?"And yes, I'm like a river, and he hasn't even started yet. As for Yoni, the fingers move slowly, as if drawing a masterpiece. I moaned up, Archie, and I knew he was holding me over the edge as if I was holding him. It's not just about orgasm, it's about connection."You keep me alive."When his lips touch me, I forget where I am and fly away. And yes,it's not just sex,it's a thrill that starts with his hand and ends with my scream.

In short, the difference lies in the way we feel desire. For him,massage is like a map to a treasure trove,each turn brightens the explosion. He wanted me to control, but that shot was powerful. For me, it's about trusting him to study me like a rare book. His dick reacts to hard rhythms, and my pussy reacts to soft strokes. But in general, both of us want something high that does not fit into the framework of ordinary sex. When I massage him,I melt from his moans. When I think about how they massage me, I flow from the way he torments me. It's like dancing on a volcano, where every step is fire. Dick and pussy are just tools,and the real thrill is how we feel about each other. Immerse yourself in this atmosphere and allow your orgasm to be louder than any bass.