Cleaning Day

Petite Natasha Malkova started her day hungry for music. A few dishes needed the dishwasher. The rest she could handle with a feather duster and some dancing. Her hips rocked while she worked, and every shimmy sent a warm thrum straight to her panties. The couch cushions parted under her hands and there it was—her bright pink toy, waiting like an old secret. One quick check of the empty house, then she pressed the smooth tip to her mouth, letting her tongue trail over it until the silicone glistened. Eyes half-closed, she imagined a thick, real cock on her tongue, then guided the wet shaft between her shaved lips and eased it deep. Her free hand cupped her perky tits, slid down her tight stomach, found the hard little nub that wanted attention. Every slow thrust taught her something new about where pleasure struck hardest. She shifted onto her knees, then onto her back with one ankle hooked over the couch arm, and the change in angle hit a spot that cracked through her like current. Her thighs shook, breath caught, and the pulses kept rolling, tighter, faster, until the final wave left her limp and slick. Cleanup was quiet. The toy disappeared back into its spot, and the music played on.