Hold The Phone: Filling In For Wifey

Charlotte Sins stands at the door with her bags, expecting Charlie Forde’s mouth on hers. Instead she gets the news: Charlie’s still chained to a spreadsheet an ocean away. Aria Sloane answers in a silk slip that barely covers the swell of her tits, and the smirk that says she already knows the plan. Charlotte hesitates only until Charlie’s voice slides through the speakerphone—husky, calm, certain. “She can give you what I can’t tonight. Let her.” Permission granted, Charlotte lets the phone rest on the nightstand. Aria peels the slip over her head, heavy breasts swaying free, and sinks to her knees between Charlotte’s thighs. Two fingers part slick folds, then slide deep, curling until Charlotte’s hips jerk. Wet sounds fill the room while Charlie listens, occasionally breaking in with a low “harder” or a sharp inhale when Charlotte moans her name. Charlotte’s own hand finds Aria’s nipple, pinching until the younger woman gasps into her cunt. She rides those fingers like she’s starving, tits bouncing with every thrust, the line crackling with Charlie’s breathing on the other end. When Aria adds her tongue, flicking fast and filthy, Charlotte comes with a broken cry, soaking the sheets and the mouthpiece both. Charlie’s quiet chuckle drifts through the speaker. “Good girl. Now put her on speaker so I can hear her come too.”