Chapter 552: Where Are Your Panties, Hannah?

A thick, pearly rope of cum spilled from Julie’s stretched rim, dripping down the curve of her ass and over her thighs in slow, obscene rivulets. The camera caught every detail—the way her hole stayed gaping, glistening and hungry, the way her muscles twitched as if still begging for more.

My fingers traced her rim, teasingly pushing the cum back inside, only to watch it spill out again, thicker this time, dripping beneath her.

Julie let out a breathy, needy whimper as another drop slid free, her voice trembling just loud enough to carry over the phone. "Fuck... it’s still leaking..." Her words were a husky murmur, the kind that made it clear she wasn’t just talking to me—she was talking to them, too.

The thought sent a fresh surge of arousal through me, my cock already stirring again at the sound of her voice, at the way her ass clenched around nothing, as if trying to milk more out of the air itself.

On the screen, Haruna’s breath hitched sharply, her fingers digging into her thighs as she pressed them together, her eyes locked onto Julie’s dripping asshole. The way her chest rose and fell, rapid and shallow, betrayed how hard she was fighting to stay quiet.

Hannah’s face was a fucking masterpiece—twisted in a mix of rage and need, her fingers digging into her thighs like she could strangle the ache between them. Her hand was pressed so hard against her pussy I could almost hear the wetness through the phone, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.

She was fighting it, but her body wasn’t listening—her hips shifted restlessly, her thighs trembling as if she were already imagining my hands on her instead of her own.

Haruna, meanwhile, was a fucking disaster. Her fingers shook like a junkie in withdrawal as she fumbled with her phone, her thumb slipping over the screen again and again before she finally managed to lock it. But the call didn’t drop. Oh no—it stayed wide open, every ragged breath, every whispered word bleeding straight into our ears.

Julie was still a fucking mess—her ass gaping, my cum dripping down her thighs, her pussy soaked from the way I’d wrecked her. I yanked her onto my lap, her body collapsing against mine with a needy whimper.

She was still trembling, her cunt throbbing around nothing, her ass twitching like it was begging for more. I muted the phone with one hand, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks, my cock already stirring again at the thought of what we were about to hear.

Haruna’s voice cut through first, sharp with shock. "Hannah... what the fuck—you flooded the bed. Jesus, it’s dripping."

Hannah’s voice was pure panic, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush. "What the hell are you—? Don’t you dare—ah!—fuck, Haruna, stop—!" The sound of fabric tearing, the wet squelch of fingers pressing against bare skin—it was so loud I could picture it perfectly.

"You’re not wearing any fucking panties," Haruna hissed, her voice thick with something dark—jealousy, arousal, the need to win. "You’re just... bare under that skirt, aren’t you? Wet and ready for him."

Julie let out a broken laugh, her ass clenching around nothing as she shifted in my lap, another thick drop of cum slipping from her used hole and splattering onto my thigh. "Fuck, they’re wild," she gasped, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she listened, her own breath hitching when Hannah’s next words came through, raw and desperate.

"Haruna..." Hannah’s voice was a whine, her pride crumbling. "Then explain why your panties are soaked through. Why are you squeezing your thighs together?"

Julie’s eyes darkened, her lips parting as she grinded her pussy down against me, her ass still loose and dripping from the last fucking. "Oh, fuck," she moaned, her voice low and filthy. "They’re both so fucking desperate for it..."

Haruna’s voice dropped, her usual composure shattered. "It’s—fuck—it’s the video, okay?! Watching him ruin that woman’s asshole like that, hearing her moan—" Her breath hitched, the sound of her fingers working between her own legs unmistakable now.

Haruna’s voice was a razor blade wrapped in silk, sharp with accusation. "Don’t you dare change the fucking topic." Her breath hitched, the sound of her fingers working between her thighs growing wetter, messier.

"Why the hell are your panties gone, Hannah?" Haruna’s voice was a whip crack of accusation, her words dripping with something darker—something that sounded an awful lot like want.

"Did you just decide to strut around with that bare, dripping cunt for him? Or did he steal them from you like the desperate little whore you are?"

The line hummed with static, but beneath it, the slick, obscene sounds of their fingers working themselves grew louder, wetter. Haruna’s breath hitched, her own arousal bleeding into every syllable, her voice trembling with the effort of holding back.

Hannah’s answer came in a broken, shame-drenched whimper. "It was Jack, okay?!" Her voice cracked, the humiliation only making it filthier, her fingers no doubt buried deep between her thighs as she confessed.

"This morning... I was still half-asleep, and he just—fuck—he tore them off me." A ragged gasp, the sound of her back arching, her body betraying her.

"He told me if I wanted them back, I’d have to earn them." Her breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, her voice dissolving into something breathy, something needy. "He said... I had to beg for them. And I—ah—I couldn’t..."

Haruna’s laugh sliced through the line, sharp as a blade and just as dangerous, her jealousy bleeding into every syllable. "You let him." Her voice cracked, her fingers working her cunt with frantic, wet strokes, the sound of her arousal thick and obscene.

"You fucking loved it. You wanted him to do it." The bed creaked beneath her, her breath hitching as her own confession spilled out, her body betraying her. "God, I hate that I’m even listening to this—ah—but I can’t stop—"

Julie’s body moved against mine, her ass still loose and dripping, her cunt rubbing against my cock in slow, deliberate circles. The sound of her wet flesh against mine was filthy, her voice a breathless pant.

"Fucking sluts," she moaned, her hips rolling in dirty, teasing motions, her fingers digging into her clit. "They’re both so fucking desperate for it..." Her ass clenched around nothing, her body craving more, always more.

Then—silence.

The call cut off.

Hannah.