Brick walls close in. Makes every touch raw. Her in red lace top, glasses perched, dark hair loose. Straddles the massage table edge. Hands glide over his bare chest down to grip cock tight. Slow pumps build. He arches up. She leans in close, tits brushing skin. Fingers twist the head. Pace quickens. Eyes lock through lenses. Sweat beads on curves. Table creaks under shifts. She owns the rhythm. Bare skin glows under lights. Tension snaps.