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Description
Onsen
His name wasn't on any brochure.
Guests at the high-rise spa just asked for "the snake". Word spread fast, about the pressure of his hands, the way his coils wrapped around your thighs, the heat of his breath on your neck.
They said his touch got deep.
Too deep for some.
Just right for the ones who came back.
He worked in Room 47. Dim lights. Thick steam. A low table with a single folded towel. He didn't speak your language, but somehow you understood him. He nodded, undressed you with his eyes, and pointed to the mat.
His hands were slick and heavy. They didn’t glide. They pushed. Dug. Worked every knot in your back until you twitched under the towel. He noticed.
“あなたもここで緊張しています” he said once, fingers pressing between your cheeks, slow and firm.
He knew how to draw it out of you: your breath, your sweat, the low grunt you made when his scaled body pinned your legs open. No small talk. Just the drag of muscle on muscle, his tail sliding over your belly, your cock throbbing as he worked you past relief.
He never asked for tips.
Just looked you in the eye when you came, coiled around your hips, and said, “あなたにはこれが必要でした”
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