Housework?

She was just supposed to knock out the chores. Instead she slipped that smooth toy from the drawer and spread herself right there in the middle of the living room. The first stroke made her breath hitch. She circled her clit with the head, slow and lazy, then pushed it inside with a soft, wet sound. Her knees softened. Hips rolled. Every few thrusts she pulled it free to watch how slick it had become, then sank it back in deeper. Blonde hair spilled over her shoulders as she leaned back, legs wider, chasing that low, building throb. The camera caught every wet slide, every shiver, every little gasp that said the housework could wait.