Television Temptation

Kylie's alone. Roommate left. Perfect. She picks her guilty TV show, the one packed with sweat and moaning. The kind she never risks when Gal's home. First she watches. Then the couch gets hot. Kylie hoists her skirt and kicks her panties away. Her hand slips between her legs. She works herself while the screen spits sparks. A key in the door. Keys hit the counter. Gal's back early, no movie, sold-out crowd. Kylie scrambles, yanks the nearest blanket and buries her lap. Gal wanders in, clocking the exact second the moan from the TV floats through the speakers. She grins. She's heard the buzz. Slides onto the cushions, drags Kylie's watch party straight into hostage territory. Gal points and laughs. The couple on screen is grinding like the curtain's already down. Kylie tries to ride it out, eyes forward, smile tight, but her wet fingers never stop. Small circles under fabric. Breath catching. Gal side-eyes the jiggle. One fast snatch and the blanket flies. Kylie's fingers shine in the blue light, caught mid-stroke. Kylie stutters, heat climbing her cheeks. Gal's smile stretches wider. The show's pounded through her too. She leans in, voice low, asking one slick question that turns shame into an offer neither of them can dodge.