Chapter 2

Several days had passed since Carly had the late evening phone conversation with her son. She knew Stephen was having problems with his wife, sexual and otherwise, but she never expected him to be so frustrated that he would masturbate during a conversation with his own mother. She didn't sleep much that night and couldn't stop thinking about it all the next day.

Stephen had not returned from his New Orleans trip, nor had she spoken to him again since that night. They often talked by phone while he was traveling, but this time he didn't call her, nor did she call him. But her thoughts were still plagued with the conversation they had.

"Why did he do that? Why did he want to talk to me while he did it? Did it just happen? Maybe he just called to talk and he accidentally got aroused and it had nothing to do with who he was talking to. That's certainly happened to me. That makes sense. But what about what he said near the end? I swear he said, 'I want to stick it in YOUR pussy.' But when I asked him, he said, 'HER pussy ... his wife Paige's pussy.' What the hell was that about?" These and other thoughts flooded Carly's mind as she waited to again meet her friend Linda.

There was no one else Carly could talk to about this. Certainly not her husband Paul. She had tried to get Paul to talk to Stephen about his marital problems, but Paul showed little or no interest. But even if Linda might act a little wild, she was the only one Carly could trust with this.

"So what's up, Honey?" Linda said as she joined Carly at their favorite table. "We're not supposed to do this again until next week."

"I just needed to talk," Carly replied. "Thanks for coming on short notice." Linda nodded. "Remember what I told you about Stephen and his issues with Paige the other day?"

"Wow, you really jump right in," Linda said. "Yea, I remember. He's not gettin' any! Is he having an affair?"

"Linda," Carly said. "Please be serious." Linda made an apologetic face. Carly knew more jokes were still to come. It was just Linda and overall, she loved her for it. "First of all, I asked Paul to talk to him, like you mentioned. No luck. Then later that night, Stephen called me on my cell phone. He was in New Orleans for a few days."

"Yea?" Linda said. "So what did he say?"

"Well," Carly said, "He told me he was lonely. He'd been drinking, missing his wife, you know." Linda nodded again. "Then he ... uh ... he..."

"He what? Tell me," Linda's impatience was well known among friends and colleagues alike and Carly could feel it.

"He started talking about sex," Carly said.

"What does that mean?" Linda asked.

"He started talking about Paige," Carly responded. "How she won't let him see her naked any more, things like that."

"Yea?" Linda said. "What's the big deal about that?"

"That wasn't all he talked about," Carly said. "Then he said how much he liked her body, what nice breasts she has."

"She does," Linda interrupted. "I've met her. She has great tits and just a really great body. She's hot and so's he. They should be doing it like rabbits."

"I know," Carly said. "But then it got more explicit." Linda's eyes got wider. Carly had her attention and she leaned forward to talk more quietly. "Then he started talking about how many times they used to do it before they got married, things like that."

"How many?" Linda asked. Carly knew that was coming.

"Does it really matter, Linda?" Carly asked.

"Hell. I'm curious. Yes, it matters," Linda said.

"Fine," Carly replied. "He said that sometimes before they were married, they would do it as many as six times in one night."

"No WAY!" Linda said loudly. Carly gestured for her to keep her voice down. "Six times?" Linda lowered her voice, but not very much. "Holy cow! Six times. No wonder he's a little backed-up!"

"Please, Linda," Carly said. "Not so loud. Anyway, he's uh, he's not really that backed-up any more."

"What does that mean?" Linda asked.

"He relieved his tension," Carly said. "Through our conversation."

"Carly," Linda said, more quietly now. "What does that mean? What are you talking about?" Carly paused to consider whether she really wanted to say what she was about to say.

"He jerked himself off," Carly said.

"Well, no shit he jerks himself off," Linda said. "If he's not getting it from his wife and he's not having an affair, he must jerk off all the time. So he admitted that to you. So?"

"No," Carly continued. "He jerked himself off while we were talking." Linda stared at Carly in silence.

"He ... what?" she said.

"While we were talking," Carly said. "He did it."

"You mean, like ... you were talking and it sounded like maybe he got turned-on accidentally? And you suspected maybe he was touching himself?" Linda said. "That happens to me sometimes. Sometimes I'm touching myself when I'm talking to you on the phone. It's no big deal. It doesn't even have anything to do with you ... usually." Linda gave her friend a naughty grin.

"Linda, knock it off," Carly said. "He masturbated while he was on the phone with me. He knew I knew. And he asked me to talk to him about it." Linda stared again.

"Get, the fuck, out of here," Linda said, trying to contain herself. "No WAY! NOOO WAAAYYY!"

"I'm serious," Carly said. "I heard him doing it and I asked him about it. I figured it was what you said. That he was doing it absent-mindedly. But it felt so awkward I had to tell him I heard it. But instead of being embarrassed, he admitted it. Then he told me again how lonely he was, how much he needed it, and he asked me to keep talking while he did it. I know he was more than half drunk at that point, but still..."