*WARNING CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT AND SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 OF BOARDWALK EMPIRE
"You didn't tell me that you died!" It was definitely too late for this, but Deborah had to call after hours of binge watching.
"What are you taking about?" It's almost two in the morning in Halifax, but Charlie promised he would wake up for her anytime.
"You know what I'm talking about. You were in a box!"
"Oh. That," He replies calmly, which drives her batty.
"How can you stay so calm? I'm freaked the fuck out! My hand is shaking. I can't believe it!"
"That wasn't really me you know. Prosthetics…"
"I don't even know why I put up with you." Deborah stands from her seat on the couch and walks towards the bedroom.
"You deal with me because you love me… And I happen to deliver well in the be-"
The call breaks up and she can't quite hear how his sentence finishes, but her cheeks redden at her assumption.
"It's the accent. If you were American, I don't think I would have been as interested." She lays in her bed, pulling the covers over her.
"Nah. Definitely the sex." In Charlie's flat, he pours himself a glass of water as he clenches his mobile between his neck and shoulder.
"How did you pull the accent off? It was uncanny."
He puts the phone on speaker. His muscles start to strain.
"You're asking me, an award winning actor, how I pulled off an accent."
"Yeah, I am!"
"I watched a whole bunch of Nadine Coyle's interviews."
"Who?"
"Singer. Thickest accent known to man."
Deborah turns over in bed and leans on her arm.
"The accent and that middle part? Sexiest thing I've ever seen." "You really thought that was sexy?"
"God yes." She's not very convincing. Her voice is practically dripping with sarcasm.
"Glad I fulfilled your fantasies."
"C- could you just…"
"What?"
"Nothing. It's embarrassing."
He can almost feel her cheeks heat up with a blush. After all the things they've done together, how could she ever be embarrassed?
"You can tell me anything."
"I dunno, jus-just talk to me… As Owen?"
Charlie prepares himself. He takes a long swig of water, turns off the speaker, raises the mobile back to his ear, then utters… "Sure thing, babe." In the thickest Irish accent he can muster.
"God." She sounds dissatisfied. Unsettled even.
He drops the brogue. Back to normal.
"Was it that bad?" He makes his way back to the bedroom, his glass of now room temperature water in hand.
"No! No! Of course not. It's just kinda weird to hear you switch like that. I freaked out a bit. How about American? Can you do that?" She sits up in bed and leans against the headboard.
"You just said it makes me less interesting." He still sounds concerned.
"Let's just try it. Say something only you would say."
He feels like he's having an audition. Time for the crowd pleaser.
"What are you wearing?"
Her blush deepens. Phone sex? He had to go there. But hey, she's an actress too, and a damn good one. She was gonna make this worth his while.
"Nothing but the sheets." It wasn't a complete lie, the shirt she had on was pretty shear, and hardly had a purpose. She might as well just rely on the covers as her only warmth.
"Oooh. That's what I like to hear." He speaks softly into the phone, his accent consistent, as he sits on his bed.
"I've missed you. You need to come back so I can touch you." Her voice is at a low, seductive octave he didn't think she could reach. Damn this was sexy.
"Touch me where?" Two can play this game.
"Wherever you want me to. That's not all we can do though. I know what makes you come and exactly how you like it." He feels an erection forming in his lounge pants. She knows him like the back of her hand. As many times they made love, it would be strange for her not to.
"You can touch yourself, you know." He's grateful for her blessing. Right now, there's nothing he wants more, other than her being physically there of course. His hand fishes into his pants past his waistband, and grabs his cock. He sighs at the skin to skin contact.
"Do it with me." American Charlie is more adventurous than English Charlie. He would have never done this over the phone, but Deborah asked to hear his voice, and damn it, he was gonna deliver.
"Do what exactly, babe?" She was just being coy now, but he wasn't in the mood for more games. He was officially in 'Down to business mode'.
"Grab your breast with one hand. Rub yourself with the other." This was exactly what she wanted him to say; He knew just how she liked it. She moans deeply into the phone, and he feels pride in his words. They both move at a slow pace. He tugs at his cock, she circles her clit, repeat.
The phone drops from his opposing hand, and a loud crash fills her ears followed by "Shit!"
"Sorry. I dropped the phone. You're on speaker now."
"Your accent dropped."
"Sorry." The drawl comes back.
"Talk…to me. Tell me what—y- you want me to do." She manages to profess through moans.
"Stop what you're doing." She does what she's told, even though it's difficult to do so.
"I wan- need you to take two fingers and slide them over your folds. Do it over and over." She runs her middle and index fingers over her labia, her fingertips becoming slick with precum.
"Feels good?"
"Yes." She breathes followed by a deep moan. She craves more contact.
"What do you want me do?"
"Stroke slowly. Close your eyes and imagine it's my hand." Charlie complies, sliding his fist up and down from shaft to tip. He pictures Deborah's manicured hand making the movements, her blue eyes looking up at him, dark and dilated with lust.
"You're fucking amazing. D'ya know that? You're so beautiful, and God that body of yours. It's all mine."
"Forever and always. What should I do next? I need more. Please."
"Slide a finger in. Slowly," He orders. He deserves an oscar. Being able to stay in character in this predicament is very difficult, but he prevails, like the great actor he is. Deborah pushes in her middle, and sighs at the warmness she feels inside her core.
"Fuck!" She pumps her fingers in and out a few times, each jerk causing a new sound to escape her lips. Charlie's cock strains in his hand. She was right. They needed to be back together as soon as possible. He make a mental note to book a flight as soon as their phone call ends.
"It's my turn, right?" She stops moving. If she continues, she'll explode. She wants to climax with him, together as always.
"Do you have lube?" He's taken aback. He hasn't needed to use any in the longest. With her, they've always used nature's lubricant.
"I might. Let me check." He checks the drawer of his bedside table. It's filled with junk. Business cards, candy wrappers, random stuff nobody needs… Then he finds exactly what he needs: a plastic tube of strawberry flavored lube. He doesn't remember buying this. What kind of kinky shit was he planning to do when he bought it in the first place? The expiration date is a little more than a month away. It must've been in his drawer for a while.
He flips the cap open. "Found some. It's flavored. I have absolutely no clue where this came from. Do you happen to remember buying it?"
She rolls her eyes. How could he possibly forget? They used it for multiple rounds, he licked it off of her and she him…
"It was your birthday present from about two (?) years ago."
"I forgot how much of erotic you were." Shit. Strike two.
"I know…" He gets back into character. "What do you want me to do with this anyway? I've been doing just fine."
"Put some in your hands." He squeezes the tube and a gracious amount of the light pink liquid oozes out. He rubs his hands together, spreading it on his palm.
"Stroke yourself again. I want you to pretend it's my mouth." He smiles to himself. He should start using his American accent with her more often. He was loving every minute of this.
"Slide another finger in and wait for me." He makes himself comfortable, and takes hold of his cock again, shuttering as the slightly cold liquid makes contact with his skin.
"I'm ready," She states.
"Go ahead. I'm following along." Their rhythm is similar. He thrusts into his slick hand as she strokes her inner walls.
"I'm so wet… and warm. I wish you could feel it. Fuck this is so good."
"Let me know when you get close." He tightens his hand and pumps faster, imagining running his hands through Deb's hair. He wonders what color is was now. Had she let her natural blonde grow out, or was it still red for the show? In his fantasies she was always a red head. He found her at peak sex appeal as a ginger.
Deborah gives in and places two fingers from her opposite hand on her clit. He didn't ask her to do this, but he couldn't see her, he wouldn't find out. Not that it mattered anyway. Charlie's grunts and swear words sound through her phone's speaker, and for a split second, she contemplates if the neighbors can hear. What would they say when she seen her at the mailbox? How would they look at her? She could care less. This was between her and Charlie. They haven't made love, let alone seen each other in months, and they were saving their orgasms for each other.
At the gates of the airport, they promised to stay faithful, and he partly withheld his promise, only giving into the touch of his own hand every once in a while to relieve tension. Being so busy with work, lately he hasn't had time to alleviate himself. Right now, he was in heaven, working towards an orgasm with the blissful voice of his girl sounding through his phone speaker that was only for him. The thought alone almost lead to his climax, but he holds back, longing to hear Deborah's voice raise when she reaches nirvana just as he does.
"I'm close. Go faster. Come with me." He replies with a throaty moan and does just as he's told. Imagining that it's not his hand that's applying pressure to his cock, but Deborah's warm mouth.
The image of her kneeling before him with her pink lips wrapped around his length remains as he speeds up,
She inserts third finger and moves them in and out at a rapid pace, imagining that it's Charlie's cock inside her instead of her digits. She hooks her fingers up, and loudly gasps at finding her sweet spot. Her left hand leaves her clit and snakes up her torso to grabs her breast. Her hand roughly kneads the pale flesh leaving pink marks in it's wake.
"Christ." His voice emits from the speaker. The accent drops again, but neither of them care. They're too focused on achieving climax.
"Ahh! It's so fucking, Oh my God! Fuck me! Yes!". She's breathless. The familiar tension building is almost imbearable in her stomach.
"You're so fucking amazing. God I love you." He's so close. Less than five more strokes and he'll come. But he's not doing this by himself.
"Come for me. C'mon babe." Her wrist moves faster, pumping her fingers in and out at lightening speed. She grabs her nipple and pinches. She's almost there…
"I'm gonnacome!"" They shout out simultaneously. One more slight movement, and they both climax. Charlie with a deep groan, Deborah with a scream.
They both struggle to catch their breath.
"Marry me." He states, reverted to his natural brogue.
"What?" This was completely unexpected.
"Marry me. I already have the ring. I just needed the right opportunity." Proposing after phone sex? How were they gonna tell their friends how they got engaged? But that didn't matter. All that was relevant in this point and time was each other.
"Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes."
"Sorry it wasn't traditional."
"Screw tradition. I'm on top of the world right now."
"Me too."
"We should do this again soon."
"We won't need to. I'm gonna be with you in person."
"Not that. You being American and all."
"If it's gonna be like that every time, I'll do it for the rest of my life."
"I love you."
"I love you too, but I gotta go clean up this mess."
"Touchè. Bye future husband."
"Goodnight, future wife."