Playing Married House Game I

Kael sat at the breakfast table, sipping black coffee. Sarah was across from him, buttering a slice, her hair still damp from her morning shower. She looked up, setting her knife down. "Last full day today," she said, her voice casual but firm. "Tomorrow after lunch, we're driving back home."

Kael nodded, swallowing his coffee, the bitter taste lingering on his tongue. His mind flicked to Kelly. He needed more time with her before they left. He figured he'd find a way to make it happen, but he had no idea she'd already cooked up something wild.

Laura bustled around the kitchen, wiping the counter with a rag, her apron smudged with flour. "Kelly, can you help me with the housework this morning?" she asked, glancing at her daughter, who was slumped in a chair, picking at a piece of bacon.

"Sure, Mom," Kelly said, shrugging. She was in her scruffy clothes, old gray sweatpants with a hole in the knee, a faded T-shirt with a stretched neck, her dark hair tied up in a messy bun, strands sticking out every which way. She got up slow, grabbing a broom from the corner, and started sweeping the floor, dust puffing around her feet.

Kael watched her move, lazy swipes with the broom, then hauling a vacuum upstairs, her sneakers scuffing the steps. She dusted shelves, wiped windows, her hands smudged with dirt by the time they finished just before noon.

After lunch, the phone rang. Laura answered it in the dining room, her voice muffled through the wall. Kael ate his last bite, wiping his mouth with a napkin, when she came back, her face pale, her hands twisting the hem of her apron. Sarah frowned, setting her water glass down. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Richard's really sick," Laura said, "They want me to get there fast as I can, asked you to come too, Sarah." Richard was Laura's ex-husband, Sarah's brother, Kelly's dad, obviously.

Sarah leaned back, rubbing her forehead. "That's a few hours' drive. We'd need to stay at least one night."

Laura turned to Kael, her eyes wide, pleading. "Kael, we don't have a choice here. Sarah and I have to go, you'll need to stay and look after Kelly. I don't think she should come, even if he's as bad as they say."

Kael put on a serious face, furrowing his brow, nodding slow like he was all in. "Of course," he said, "Do what you need to. I'll handle things here."

Sarah and Laura rushed off, grabbing bags from the hall closet. Kael followed, watching Sarah stuff a sweater and jeans into a duffe. They moved fast, shoes clattering on the floor, car keys jangling as they headed outside.

Kael leaned through the driver's window, "Take care of whatever comes up," he said to Laura, resting a hand on the frame. "Don't worry about money. Sarah's got our joint card, I'll cover it."

Laura smiled, relief softening her face. "Thanks, Kael. That means a lot. You've been a rock for us." She leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, her lips dry and warm. Sarah waved from the passenger seat, and the car rolled out, disappearing down the road.

Kael turned back to the house, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Kelly stood in the living room, still in her dusty sweats, hair up, face streaked with smudges from cleaning.

Her T-shirt clung to her sweaty skin, a dark patch under her arms. He stopped, looking at her, grubby, messy, but still hot as hell and stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. He hugged her tight, her body warm against his, and kissed her hard, lips pressing hers, ignoring the dirt on her cheek, the faint taste of dust. Her hair smelled sweet, and he buried his face in it, breathing deep.

"I don't know what you pulled," he said, "but Richard's fine, right? This is fucking wild, way more than I could've planned."

Kelly pulled back, grinning, her hands on his shoulders. "Dad's got a heart thing—been around for years, gives him trouble sometimes. He's not young anymore, so the doc keeps tabs, but he's not dying. Wasn't hard for him to fake some chest pains, hospitals freak out, call family fast 'cause they don't wanna get sued if he croaks without a goodbye."

Kael blinked, running a hand through his hair. "Why'd he go along with it, though? Even if he's not sick, Sarah and Laura are gonna stress."

"I asked him for a favor," she said, shrugging. "Didn't tell him why, just said I needed it. Works for him too, he's getting old, wants to see if they still give a shit when he's down. Guess he got his answer. He doesn't care if they worry. Why do you think Mom dumped his ass?"

Kael laughed low, pulling her back into a hug, her sweaty shirt sticking to his chest. "Well, whatever's driving everybody, it's perfect for us. What you wanna do?" He paused, smirking. "Bet you've got a fantasy lined up."

Kelly looked up at him, her eyes locking on his, serious for a second. "I do," she said.

"Lay it on me," Kael said, his hands sliding to her hips. "I'm in for anything."

She bit her lip, then said, "It might sound weird with how Mom and Dad ended, but can we pretend we're married? We've got the house to ourselves for twenty-four hours. Let's do all the stuff a couple would. Everything." She held his gaze, repeating, "Everything," her voice low, insistent.

Kael grinned, wiping a smudge off her cheek with his thumb, licking it clean after. "If we're gonna play house out there, first thing you need is a shower," he said, rubbing at another dirt spot on her forehead.

"We need a shower," she corrected, turning toward the stairs. She glanced back, making sure he was following, her bun bouncing as she moved.

Kael trailed her up, his sneakers quiet on the carpet, into her bedroom, a small space with a single bed, a cluttered dresser, and a hamper in the corner. Clothes were piled on a chair, a hairbrush tangled with strands on the nightstand.

"This is our bedroom," Kelly said, standing by the bed, hands on her hips. Kael nodded, playing along, and she peeled off her grubby T-shirt, tossing it into the hamper with a flick of her wrist. Her sweatpants followed, landing with a soft thud, leaving her in plain white panties and a sports bra, both damp with sweat. Kael stripped too, shirt, jeans, boxers, folding them neat over the chair like he lived here, like this was routine.

Kelly crossed the hall to the bathroom, her bare feet slapping the tiles, and stepped into the shower.

A glass box with a chrome head. She turned, waiting, and when Kael hesitated, she said, "Come on. You've gotta wash my back, proper."

Kael stepped in, the glass door clicking shut behind him. Kelly twisted the knob, and water sprayed down, cold at first, making her yelp, then warming fast, steam rising around them. She turned under the stream, letting it soak her, water running over her shoulders, down her back, flattening her hair as she pulled the tie out, letting it fall loose and dark against her neck.

"Soap," she said, pointing to a white bar on the ledge. Kael grabbed it, rubbing it between his hands 'til they were thick with lather, bubbles dripping to the floor. He started on her back, sliding his soapy hands over her skin, smooth, wet, warm working from her shoulders down her spine.

"Properly," she reminded, her voice firm over the water's hiss. He moved lower, hands slipping into the cleft of her ass, washing between her cheeks, then brushing her pussy lips from behind, careful not to linger too long, not yet, saving the heat for later. She sighed soft, shifting her stance, legs parting a little.

She turned to face him, water streaming down her front, and he soaped her again, over her stomach, up to her breasts, rubbing the lather around her nipples but not pressing hard, keeping it light. She grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the shelf, squirting it into her palm, green, smelling like apples, and scrubbed her hair, suds running down her face 'til she rinsed it clean under the spray. "My turn," she said, taking the soap from him.

Kael stood still as she lathered her hands, bubbles foaming between her fingers. She started on his chest, rubbing slow circles over his skin, then down his stomach, her hands slick and warm. She cheated a little, sliding lower to his cock, wrapping her soapy fingers around it, stroking slow. It hardened fast under her touch, growing thick in her hand, and she grinned, her eyes glinting. "Later," she said, letting go, rinsing her hands under the water.

"Later," Kael agreed, cock still stiff as she moved to his back, washing it quick but thorough, her hands firm on his shoulders.

They stepped out, water dripping onto the mat, and grabbed towels from the rack, big, white, fluffy.

Kael dried her first, rubbing the towel over her arms, down her back, patting her ass, then her legs, her feet last. She took his towel, drying his chest, his stomach, lingering a second on his cock, still half-hard before moving to his back, her hands pressing the fabric into his skin. They finished, tossing the towels into a hamper by the sink, and padded back to the bedroom, naked and damp.

Kael grabbed his clothes from the chair, jeans, shirt, boxers and pulled them on, the fabric cool against his warm skin. Kelly rummaged through her dresser, pulling out drawers, clothes spilling over the edges. "Turn around," she said, her voice teasing. "Some of this is a surprise for later."

"Alright," Kael said, turning his back, facing the wall, hands in his pockets. He heard her moving fabric sliding, a snap of elastic, a soft rustle then her voice again. "You can look."

He turned, and she stood there in a simple outfit, black skirt hitting her knees, white blouse buttoned up, her wet hair tied back in a neat ponytail, still dripping a little at the ends. Her breasts pressed against the blouse, hinting at whatever bra she'd picked, and she smiled, smoothing her skirt with her hands. "Perfect," Kael said, stepping closer, his fingers brushing her arm.

She grinned, grabbing his hand, pulling him toward the door. "Let's play house," she said, her voice light, ready for their fake married day to kick off.