Catching Mommy Sneaking

Gia sits in the living room, arms crossed, irritation plain on her face. The front door clicks open. Christie Stevens steps inside in heels and a short black dress, barefoot now, trying to creep past unnoticed. Gia turns at the sound. What the hell was she doing out so late? Christie's answers come quick and false, one excuse sliding into the next. Gia watches her without a flicker of belief. Finally the truth slips out—dancing, drinks, friends, the craving her husband can't satisfy. Gia lets the silence stretch, then smiles like she smells opportunity. What will Christie pay to keep her quiet? Money, the car, clothes—Gia shakes her head at every offer. She wants Christie herself, warm and willing. Christie hesitates, then steps closer when Gia promises to give her the very thing her father never could. They meet in the middle of the room, mouths open, breath shared. Christie yanks Gia's shorts down and drops between her thighs, tasting her without hesitation. The night turns slick and urgent. Maybe getting caught by Gia is the best kind of trouble.