Midnight Moaning

The credits rolled and Siri wished her goodnight, a brush of hands and casual goodnights filling the room before her door clicked shut. Left alone, Natalie lingered on the couch, thumb scrolling without purpose until her phone buzzed with a private number and a cocky, impatient voice on the other end. Her reply was husky, no teasing needed tonight. One free hand slid beneath her waistband and found slick heat already waiting. She spoke low and filthy into the receiver, circling her clit as the caller told her exactly what he'd do if he were there. Her shorts came down. Her fingers sank deeper, faster. Moans spilled past her bitten lip, thighs shaking as wet sounds punctuated every whispered yes. Halfway down the hall, those same sounds found Siri. She moved on bare feet, pressed herself to the open archway, and watched. Natalie lay sprawled, one leg draped over the back of the couch, hips bucking to meet the frantic swirl of her own fingers. The screen light caught the shine on her cunt, each hurried stroke catching the soft lamplight. Siri felt her own breath quicken. A soft scuff of skin on wood made Natalie jerk upright. She yanked the throw pillow across her lap, face flushed, call gone dead on her screen. Siri stepped fully into view, pupils blown, lips parted. "Don't hang up for me," she said quietly. "Unless you'd rather show me instead."