Repaying The Favor

Charlotte sprawls on the couch in sweats when the bell jangles. She answers and finds Jamie Michelle clutching a hanging bag, looking apologetic already. They swap names and the story tumbles out: both use Lucky Laundry and the staff mixed up their orders, so Jamie figured she’d play delivery girl. “You saved me a trip,” Charlotte says, and beckons her inside. Charlotte’s eyes catch the silky flash of lingerie hanging open in the bag. She teases, “Looks like somebody planned a special night?” Jamie’s cheeks pink. She laughs it off and admits the pieces have been gathering dust because dating is dead for her right now. Charlotte clocks the tight shoulders, the jaw working overtime, that unmistakable ache of no action for months. She suggests a quick massage to loosen Jamie up, her professional cure-all. Jamie stammers a second, then melts into a nod. Charlotte warms oil between her palms and starts slow on Jamie’s neck, then sweeps down along her shoulder blades. The strokes deepen. Jamie sighs, hips shifting on the table. When Charlotte’s thumbs press low across the small of Jamie’s back, her breath catches. Charlotte’s mind clicks: the tension isn’t just muscle. She slips one hand lower, brushing the hem of the robe. Jamie parts her thighs without asking. A second later Charlotte’s slick fingers part wet lips and glide inside, two knuckles deep, thumb circling Jamie’s swollen clit in slow circles. Jamie’s moan cracks in the middle. Charlotte pumps harder, the wet sounds turning shameless, until Jamie shakes and bites her own wrist to keep from howling. One release isn’t enough for Charlotte; she curls her fingers again, angling up to milk the second orgasm until Jamie is limp, laughing, and dripping onto the sheets. Charlotte licks the taste off her fingers and grins like someone who just fixed exactly what the dry cleaners couldn’t.