She kept her hands where they were, fingers massaging herself.

Each finger moved with the others, but massaged its own separate spot inside her.

His fingers found the base of her neck and massaged deeply.

His fingers, now in the middle of her spine, massaged gently.

His fingers tangled in her hair, then massaged her neck.

"We were sitting at this table here," she said, her long fingers massaging the table's deep mahagony grain.

"Closed," she reminded him gently, her fingers massaging his member, squeezing it for the final bit of growth.

For a moment his fingers massaged his scars as if he wanted to rub the blood out of them.

His fingers lightly massaged her forehead as he looked down into her beautiful face.