The mistress and the maid

Mia makes a deliberate mess. She wants me to clean it, nothing more, nothing less. I drop to my knees in lingerie, wipe the floor, and feel her eyes on my ass. Each slow stroke of the cloth turns her on. She bites her lip, breathes harder. Before I finish, she pulls me up by the hair, shoves me onto the bed, and climbs over me. Her tongue finds mine. Her fingers slide under my panties. I taste the same power she wields when she gives orders, now wrapped in heat and wet skin. Blonde hair falls across my face as she grinds her hips. She is the mistress. I am the maid. Right now, neither of us wants it any other way.