escort diary® of Katy King: Couples - sensual
I always start couples sessions the same way when the night is meant to be about her: I have her lie down first.
Her husband sat quietly in the armchair across from us—close enough to see every detail, far enough that the moment belonged entirely to her. The soft lighting made her skin glow as she stretched out on her stomach, her dress slipping down her back. I warmed the oil between my hands, then placed them gently on her shoulders.
The second I touched her, she exhaled like she’d been holding tension for months.
“She carries everything here,” I murmured as my thumbs pressed into the tight muscles of her upper back.
Her husband nodded, his voice low. “She never lets herself relax.”
“Well,” I whispered, leaning over her so my breath brushed her ear, “tonight she does.”
I ran my hands slowly down her spine, feeling her soften under every glide of my fingers. The oil warmed her skin, and I moved deliberately—slow circles, long strokes, and the faint scratch of my nails whenever I felt her shiver. Her husband watched with that mix of awe and hunger men get when they see their wife being adored in a way she hasn’t let herself receive in far too long.
“Does this feel good?” I asked softly.
She nodded into the pillow, her voice already breathy. “God, yes.”
I shifted to straddle her thighs—not sexual yet, just grounding—letting my weight settle gently so she felt held, secure. My hands smoothed the oil along her waist, my thumbs tracing the beautiful curves of her body.
“You’re doing so well,” I murmured, letting my fingers drift up her sides in a slow tease.
She let out a soft, helpless sound that made her husband inhale sharply. His grip tightened on the arms of the chair.
“She’s beautiful,” I said quietly without looking away from her.
“You have no idea,” he replied, mesmerised.
I worked my way down, massaging the soft flesh of her hips, then the backs of her thighs. Each time she gasped, I could feel her surrendering more, her body opening beneath me. I leaned down and let my lips brush her shoulder—not a kiss, just the suggestion of one.
She trembled beneath me.
“Baby,” her husband whispered, “look at you…”
I slid her hair aside, exposing the elegant line of her neck. “Can I touch you here?” I asked softly.
She nodded immediately.
So I lowered my mouth to her skin, kissing her shoulder first—slow, warm—then following the path to the base of her neck. She arched into it, breath catching, fingers curling into the pillow.
Her husband made a low, involuntary sound.
“You taste incredible,” I whispered against her skin.
A full-body shiver moved through her.
I brought my lips to her ear. “Tell me if you want more, beautiful.”
She turned her head just enough that I could see her face—flushed, lips parted, desire written openly across her expression. “Katy… please don’t stop.”
I smiled, sliding my hand beneath her waist and guiding her gently onto her back so I could see her properly. Her eyes were dark, her chest rising quickly, her need unmistakable.
Her husband stood now, unable to stay seated, drawn in by the sight of her unraveling. But he still didn’t touch her—not until she asked.
I brushed a thumb across her jawline, then lowered my mouth to hers. The kiss was slow, deep, reverent. The kind of kiss that makes a woman feel worshipped.
She melted under me instantly.
“Good girl,” I whispered against her lips, my fingers tracing a slow path down her stomach. “You’re safe. You’re adored. And I’m nowhere near finished with you.”
I positioned her between my thighs, our womanly parts touching..
