The New Maid

David can't wait. He phones Jamaica the moment he knows Mira will show. She walks in late, same as always, but the tiny uniform clings to every curve and her tits look ready to spill out. One glance and Jamaica's already grinning. David just watches while she starts with the usual dusting, bending low, ass high, that red hair falling forward. She wipes the table in slow circles, every movement pushing her breasts together until the fabric strains. Then the broom appears. Mira wraps her fingers around the handle, spreads her legs, and slides the wooden shaft between her thighs like she's testing its weight. Her skirt rides up. No panties. Jamaica steps closer. David moves behind her. Hands on her hips. They bend her over the same table she just polished, pull that skirt higher, and take turns. Jamaica pushes in first, thick and steady, while David palms her tits, thumbs her nipples until they stiffen. Mira gasps, pushes back, takes every inch. When Jamaica pulls out, David slides straight into her ass, slow and deep, the tight ring gripping him. She moans louder, red hair swinging, big tits swaying with each thrust. They switch again, this time both of them inside her at once, one in her pussy, one in her ass, filling her until she shakes and comes hard between them.