“You’re an evil woman, Charlotte Rowe,” I told her as she answered.
“You started it,” she reminded me slightly breathlessly.
“What are you doing?” I asked, intrigued.
“N-n-nothing,” she lied with a gasp.
“Charlotte,” I called her out, my voice thick with want. I was sure I could hear muffled pants and soft buzzing sounds. When she didn’t reply, I tried again. “Charlotte?”
“What?” she snapped.
“I wish I was there,” I confessed, earning me a deep, guttural moan. “Tell me what you’re doing,” I encouraged, shoving my hand down the front of my pants.
“I ... I … oh God!”
“Do it, Charlotte. Imagine I’m there with you. Imagine it’s my fingers inside you. Imagine it’s my teeth, nibbling on your nipples. It's my thumb circling your clit …”
“I need … oh God … I need …”
“What do you need, Charlotte? Tell me what you need and it’s yours,” I promised, my voice thick as I stroked my cock, spreading the precum leaking from the tip along my shaft.
“Luke! Luke! I want to … I need to …”
“Come for me, Charlotte,” I commanded as she called out, panting.
Closing my eyes, I stroked harder and faster listening to Charlotte whimper and pant, picturing her cheeks flushed, beads of sweat dotting her forehead, her heavy tits heaving.
“Luke …”
“I’m right there with you, sweetheart,” I promised, chasing my own release.
“I want to hear you …”
“Hear me what?” I heaved, my cock heavy and hard in my hand.
“Come. I need you to come, Luke.”
“Tell me what you’re doing … talk to me …”
“I’m playing with myself.”
“Are you wet, sweetheart?” I cooed.
“Dripping, Luke. Dripping for you … all for you. And my boobs, oh God, my boobs are so sore. They need you. They need you to …”
“To what, Charlotte? What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to kiss them. To lick them. To squeeze them.”
“I want that so bad,” I confessed. Picturing Charlotte spread eagle on her bed, panties tugged to the side, pussy glistening, boobs barely contained, had my balls tightening barely a breath before ropes of cum hit my stomach.
For a moment we just lay there, both completely spent and breathing hard down the phone.
“I didn’t mean …” Charlotte started, but I had to cut her off. The last thing I wanted was for her to apologize or regret what just happened.
“Don’t. Don’t do that. That was the single hottest moment of my life. Only one thing could’ve made it even better.”
“And what’s that?”
