Amy and I are new to texting. We only got our BlackBerry Curves late last year as early Christmas presents. Hers is red and mine is black. She named hers Amy and she named mine Blackie.

BLACKIE: I loved the way you touched yourself this morning. I’m thinking of it right now. Remembering every detail. The way you held your breast. The way your finger moved in circles and figure-eights around your clit, faster and faster, and then the sweet whimpering cry you made when you came. And then the taste of you. So nice!

AMY: Oh, Tom. I mean Blackie. You’re so naughty.

BLACKIE: You’re the naughty one.

AMY: I know. But you made me do it.

BLACKIE: Because you never masturbate on your own?

AMY: Never.

BLACKIE: How come? Don’t you like it?

AMY: It feels good while I’m doing it. But after, I feel empty. Hollow. Sad. Lonely.

BLACKIE: Did you feel sad this morning?

AMY: No. I felt wonderful. But that’s because you made me do it. It was like you were masturbating me.

BLACKIE: I wish I could masturbate you now.

AMY: Naughty boy. But that wouldn’t really be masturbating, would it?

BLACKIE: If you don’t tell, I won’t tell.

AMY: Ha ha. As if you could be trusted.

BLACKIE: What if you touched yourself and pretended it was me?

AMY: You mean right now?

BLACKIE: Yeah, right now.

AMY: But I’m on the train. People might see. I’d be so embarrassed.

BLACKIE: What if you just squeezed your legs together?

AMY: I guess I could do that.

BLACKIE: Please do.

BLACKIE: Did you do it?

AMY: A little.

BLACKIE: How did it feel?

AMY: I don’t know. Okay I guess. I felt self-conscious.

BLACKIE: Try some more. While you’re doing it, think of me stroking my cock.

AMY: Are you stroking your cock?

BLACKIE: I am. I’m stroking my cock and thinking about your pussy.

AMY: You’re bad. But it’s no fair. You’re home.

BLACKIE: How do you know I’m home? How do you know I’m not in the restroom at the Blue Coyote Cafe?

AMY: Are you?

BLACKIE: Uh huh. I’m in the restroom talking to you and touching myself.

AMY: I don’t believe you.

BLACKIE: Want me to send you a picture?

AMY: Yeah. Send me a picture.

BLACKIE: If I do, will you touch yourself?

AMY: I might.

BLACKIE: You’d better.