Bands mold her thighs to the wood, then her calves, then her hips, then her stomach, then her ribcage, her arms, and just above her breasts. Through t...is she tries her very best to hold still, the odd muscle twitch betraying her racing thinking. The bands are cinched down, nearly painfully, and purposefully. Unwilling sounds filter out from behind her gag. Another band goes across her forehead, anchoring her head to the wood. Her throat works convulsively when he drapes the last band across her. He wore a leather belt with a pump bottle attachment. Joe would squirt liquid onto his hands before starting to rub my mom. I quickly realized that the bottle was his oil as his hands slide effortlessly over my mom’s well-defined back.My mom was facing the opposite direction with her back exposed and her bottom covered with a towel. She could not see me but the massage guy could. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and glanced up at me without skipping a beat. He gave me a mischievous smile and. More

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