Playing Married House Game IV

Kael woke slow, He lay still, his body pressed against Kelly's, her warmth sinking into his skin. She was on her side, facing away, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow, her breathing steady and deep. He propped himself up on one elbow, just watching her, her bare shoulder peeking out, her face calm, lips slightly parted. She looked young, beautiful, peaceful, and he stayed quiet.

His mind clicked awake, sharp and clear. I'm still me, he thought, running a quick check. No gaps, no fog—he remembered everything: his real life, his name, his purpose. I'm not John. I'm Kael.

The simulation hadn't fucked with his head this time. Maybe his mental strength was tougher now, holding John's personality at bay, even as he played the part.

He lived in this body, fucked her like it was his job. He didn't feel lost, didn't feel swallowed. But guilt tugged at him, Kelly, Sarah, this whole mess. He pushed it down. Just go with it flow, he decided, letting the day roll out.

He slipped out of bed quiet, pulled his shorts and T-shirt back on. Kelly didn't stir, her body still curled under the blanket. He padded downstairs.

In the kitchen, he grabbed a tray from a cabinet, wooden, scratched and set to work. He popped bread into the toaster, the coils glowing red, the smell of browning toast filling the air. And brewed coffee in a pot as hot water dripped through, steam curling up.

When the toast popped, he buttered it thick, the knife scraping loud, and stacked it on plates with a jar of jam—strawberry, sticky on the lid.

He loaded the tray, plates clinking, mugs steaming, and carried it upstairs, steps creaking under his weight. Kelly was awake when he pushed the door open, sitting up in bed, the blanket pulled to her waist, still naked. She smiled wide when she saw the tray, her eyes lighting up. "Wow," she said, scooting back against the headboard, "if this is what being married's like, I could handle it."

Kael set the tray across her lap, the wood balancing on her thighs, and climbed in beside her, grabbing his own plate. They ate quiet, the crunch of toast loud in the room.

The coffee was hot, bitter, warming his hands through the mug. Kelly smeared jam on her second piece, licking a smear off her finger, and Kael watched, his cock twitching faintly in his shorts. When they finished, he stacked the dishes, crumbs scattering and slid the tray onto the floor just outside the door.

"Had enough breakfast?" he asked, turning back to her, leaning on one elbow.

"Well…" Kelly said, her voice teasing, a grin tugging her lips. She sprawled out on the bed, legs stretching long, arms flopping wide, inviting him in.

Kael lay down beside her, but flipped around, his head toward the foot of the bed, his feet up by the pillows. He bent down, pressing his lips to her mound, a soft kiss on it, warm from her skin. She mirrored him, leaning forward, her breath hot as she kissed the tip of his cock through his shorts, her lips brushing the bulge.

Kelly parted her legs, knees bending up, and her pussy, bare, already wet, glistening in the dim light. He leaned in, tongue sliding over her clit, slow at first, tasting her, sharp, salty, familiar.

She moaned soft, her mouth closing around his cock through the shorts, warm and wet, sucking lightly. He pulled his shorts down quick, freeing his cock, hard now, thick in her hand and she took him in, lips wrapping tight around the head, tongue swirling slow. Kael flicked his tongue faster over her clit, lapping at it, and her mouth moved on him, sucking deeper, her hands stroking his shaft, pleasure spiking sharp up his spine.

Her breathing quickened, hot gasps against his cock as she neared her edge, her hips twitching up. Kael kept going, tongue relentless on her clit, and she came first, hard, fast, a muffled cry around his cock, her body jerking, pussy pulsing under his mouth.

She pulled off him for a second, panting, then dove back in, her tongue running long and wet down his shaft, taking his full length deep, lips tight around him. Her hands worked him, fingers gripping, stroking fast and Kael groaned, heat building tight in his balls. "I'm coming," he said, voice rough, and as he spurted—thick, hot bursts, she clamped her lips around the head, swallowing each shot, her tongue lapping at him, catching every drop.

Kael pulled back, catching his breath, and flipped around, sliding up to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close. Her skin was sweaty, her hair sticking to her neck, and he held her tight, chest to chest, her breasts soft against him. "Wow," she said, her voice shaky, a grin spreading slow, "another first."

"Mmm," Kael said, nuzzling her hair, his hands rubbing her back. "Anything we haven't tried yet?"

Kelly propped herself up, resting on one elbow, her eyes glinting. "Well, I've got something else in mind," she said, "but it'd need Mom and Sarah to stay gone longer." She grinned wider, teasing. "For now, let's grab some papers."

Kael nodded, rolling out of bed, the sheets tangling around his legs. He pulled on his jeans and shirt, "Be right back," he said, heading out and brought newspaper.

Back at the house, he kicked the door shut, papers under his arm, and found Kelly in the living room. She'd thrown on a blue dressing gown, soft, loose, tied at the waist, her hair still messy, barefoot on the rug. Kael dropped onto the sofa, tossing the papers onto the coffee table, pages rustling as they spread out. Kelly sat beside him, close but not touching, her knee brushing his jeans as she leaned forward, grabbing a section, sports first, flipping to the scores.

They read slow, passing pages back and forth, the paper crinkling loud in the quiet room. They found many things similar between them.

After a while,

A car engine growled outside, Kelly's head snapped up, frowning. "That can't be Mom," she said, her voice tight, puzzled. "She'd call first if they were coming back."

She stood, the dressing gown swishing around her legs, and walked to the hall, Kael trailing behind.

A knock rattled the door and Kelly opened it, her breath catching. "Emma!" she said, surprise loud in her tone. Her older sister stepped in, tall, blonde hair pulled back, a thick coat over jeans, followed by Mark, her husband, broad-shouldered in a jacket.

"Mom called us," Emma said, unbuttoning her coat, hanging it on a hook. "Said about Dad—she and Aunt Sarah are still there. We figured we'd swing by, check on you."

"We're good," Kelly said, stepping back, her hands smoothing her gown. "Unvle John's been keeping me company."

Kael stood up from the sofa, walking over, hands in his pockets. "Hey, Emma. Good to see you, Mark," he said, nodding, keeping it casual.

"Want some lunch?" Kelly offered, her tone bright. "I was about to make sandwiches."

Emma looked at her, eyes narrowing a second, taking in Kelly's calm, the way she stood straight, not the sulky kid she might've expected. "That'd be great," she said, smiling slow, still adjusting.

"Make yourselves at home," Kelly said, waving at the living room. "Papers are on the table if you wanna read."

She turned to Kael, her eyes glinting. "Help me out?" He followed her to the kitchen, and once they were out of sight, door swinging shut behind them, she spun to him, grinning wide. "This is fun!" she whispered, her voice bubbling. "Bet we can keep the 'married' game going without them catching on. Tons of couples act all normal around other people, you'd never know."

"Alright," Kael said, matching her grin, "Just watch yourself."

Kelly tossed her head, a quick flash of defiance, and grabbed a loaf of bread from the counter, white, soft, the bag rustling as she tore it open.

She pulled out a knife, butter from the fridge, and started spreading, thick, yellow smears on each slice, the blade scraping loud. Kael opened the fridge, grabbing ham, cheese, a jar of mustard, glass clinking as he set them down.

He sliced the ham thin, piling it on, while Kelly layered cheese, They made the sandwiches and poured coffee into four mugs from the pot still warm on the stove, steam curling up.

They carried it all to the living room. Emma and Mark were on one sofa, papers spread out,

Kael and Kelly took the other sofa, setting the food on the table. Kelly sat a careful few inches from him, her knee not touching his, her hands in her lap.