<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/c0/Seajade2.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Pyun "CJ" Choe Ja<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Employee (Pacific Liaison)<br/><strong>Date | Time:</strong>August 4 | 6 p.m.<br/><strong>Location:</strong>West beach<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Bikini (https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/77/Triangl_bikini.jpg)<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Indira Quinn<br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Mild homoerotica<hr/><br/>"Nope! Just you." Island masseuse she was not. Her hands broke character for a moment there with Indira laid out on the towel, blanching the skin with a slow drag of desire. Her brow pressed to the woman's crown and smothered them both in waves of rich sun-beat auburn, curled into delicate licks against the skin. It was important that Indira see her as a sexual creature, above all. Her hands resumed. "It would be strange to offer a massage off the street. I would think it is a bold proposition." Down an unburdened spine her hands traveled a familiar path, in order to draw out the reason she'd asked Indira to surrender her seat. They both knew what was coming. She couldn't be too early or eager.<br/><br/>"I would think this girl is trying to get me home and out of my clothes. She is a pick up artist." Cute as they were, the bikini bottoms residing so high over Indira's navel left no skin from rib to thigh in need of her hands. She considered the problem, and tread the same back a third time, leaving a shimmering wake for the setting sun's reflection, free of the brushmarks of hasty fingerwork. "I don't think of myself that way. Time together in Seoul can be short, but meaningful."<br/><br/>Her hands made the jump down to the toned legs of a woman whose thighs were never given a rest. The slow trace of fingertips approved. She did not start at the top of a thigh, where Indira's bikini bottoms outlined a clear black border. Instead she began squeezing at mid-thigh, working up from the extremities, gradually, slowly, rushing the border. "You seemed like someone who would like a rub." Fingers reached the tidy hem and disheveled it. She wondered how sharply that asymmetry could be felt as her hands swam back down lathered thighs. This was more than sufficient, the sunscreen was done. Choe Ja ought to have stopped here, or long ago, after doing for Indira just that inch of spine she couldn't reach herself.<br/><br/>Instead her fingers realigned Indira's hem from the inside. She followed the seam of fabric the way she'd underlined the straps of Indira's top, but this skin was much more intimate. There was still lotion remaining on her hands. "Your breasts," she spoke quietly, privately, and saturated her palms with more sunscreen.