Penelope wasn't expecting that. She'd heard the word before, of course, and was somewhat accustomed to cursing and vulgar language thanks to Terry, but still... cunt. Penelope looked to Charlie then, with an expression that was half scolding and half something else, something that had colour flushing to her cheeks and that tender place between her legs start to ache again.
She wasn't sure what it was about what he'd said, whether it was actually that word or whether it was that low, almost purr like quality to his voice when he'd said it. But then he continued, asking her to tell him how much she loved that.
"I can't," Penelope groaned, her body reacting and her arousal building at a rate it had no right to do so soon after the blinding orgasm he'd already given her. "I do love it, god, it makes me so- but Charlie, I can't!" She wanted to, wanted to tell him in filthy terms exactly how much she loved it, but she knew already that just his mention of such a crass term spoken and in this context had colour taint her features and so she buried her head in the crook of his neck.