Hold The Phone: Filling In For Wifey

Charlotte gets there first, rolling her suitcase behind her like a good little guest, only to find out her wife Charlie Forde isn't coming till tomorrow night. Aria answers the door in nothing but a robe and a smirk. Charlie's voice pops on the line a second later. "Babe, just go with it. Aria knows exactly what you like." Charlotte's eyebrows shoot up, but the disappointment in her pajama pants is already fading. Aria steps closer, palms sliding up under Charlotte's shirt, and soon those big tits are spilling free. Fingers dip lower, finding Charlotte warm and ready, and the brunette lets out the kind of gasp that carries right through the speaker. "Don't stop on my account," Charlie teases from wherever she is. Aria keeps the phone on speaker, answering every filthy question Charlie throws at her while she works two fingers in and out of Charlotte. Charlotte's legs shake. Her moans bounce off the walls. Every now and then she manages to say Charlie's name, half-laughing, half-pleading, all turned on. By the time Aria presses her mouth between Charlotte's thighs, Charlie is still right there, listening, coaching, telling them both what to do next. Charlotte's hips rock forward. She grips the sheets, breathing hard, and every slick sound gets an appreciative hum from the phone. It's phone sex and real sex tangled together, and nobody's hanging up anytime soon.