Roleplay With Me: Missed A Spot!

Kylie showed up in her little housecleaner getup and started pushing a rag around Coco's giant place. She missed spots, smeared dirt worse, knocked over a crystal ashtray. Coco watched from the couch, legs crossed tight in her silk robe, pretending not to notice the disasters stacking up. Kylie bent over slow, wiping the same table edge again. The hem of her skirt rode high enough to show the lace edge of nothing underneath. Coco shifted, eyes fixed on the TV that wasn't even on. Then Kylie walked behind her, hand brushing Coco's shoulder a little too long, a little too low. Coco flinched but didn't slap it away. Another pass and Kylie let her fingers trail down Coco's arm, stopping just under the sleeve where skin met silk. The married woman swallowed hard, lips pressed flat, fighting the flush creeping up her neck. On the third slow circle, Kylie stopped in front of her. Close. No rag. No pretense. She slid one knee onto the couch cushion between Coco's legs, eyes locked. Her hand found the belt of that silk robe and gave it the lightest tug. Coco's breath caught like she'd been punched. "Girls," Coco hissed, voice cracking the act wide open. "We're supposed to be pretending." Kylie grinned, leaned in, nipped her bottom lip. "Then pretend harder." Coco grabbed Kylie's face with both hands and kissed her like the roleplay never broke. Hard, messy, teeth and tongue. The robe slipped off one shoulder. Kylie pushed it the rest of the way, mouth moving down Coco's throat, hand sliding between silk and skin. Coco spread her legs wider on the couch, robe falling open completely, the last scrap of resistance gone. Kylie dropped to her knees, tongue flicking out to trace a wet line up the inside of Coco's thigh. She looked up once, wicked, then dragged the flat of her tongue straight over Coco's cunt. Coco's fingers twisted in her hair and yanked her closer, hips already rocking. The housecleaner bit and sucked, two fingers sliding in easy, curling, pumping. Coco moaned loud enough to echo off marble and glass, riding Kylie's face, coming apart in sharp, filthy gasps that sounded nothing like the prim rich wife she was supposed to be playing.