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Christa Wick

Slow Hand Curves

“I was already climaxing again when he flipped me onto my stomach. ” Briana Custer blew at her coal black bangs as if her re-telling of last night’s encounter with an old flame had her ready to pop for the sixth time in the last twenty-four hours.

I squirmed in my seat, hoping Bree would run out of steam shortly or my sister-in-law Melinda would finally shut her up.

“And…” Melinda sucked on her strawberry milkshake, her free hand gesturing for Bree to continue. Eight-and-a-half months pregnant and just off an extended bed rest, Melinda had to settle for having a sex life vicariously through Bree.

Having already listened to thirty minutes of Bree recapping sex acts, some I’d never even heard of, I was down to my last nerve. Burying my face in my hands, I groaned.

Bree rolled her eyes at me. “What’s got your granny panties in a knot?”

Much to my horror, Melinda volunteered an answer. “Amber has never-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. ” She waved Melinda off. “I know that Rice Krispies here has only been snapped and crackled, but never popped. But her ears sure as hell aren’t virgin. ”

“No, I mean, she has never…” Melinda stopped and let an imaginary quiver roll through her body. “Not even on her own. ”

“Oh, Jesus!” I wrapped my hands around my head and shut my eyes. I would never again try to entertain a bedridden pregnant woman who had been house bound for a month with a discussion of lady problems.

“C’mon, quit yanking my chain. ” Bree made a little come hither motion with her middle finger. “Are you saying not even after a little rub or two?”

I felt my cheeks go from pink to red.

My voice had turned into an annoying little whisper that they completely ignored. Melinda slurped the last of her shake and then authoritatively pointed its container at her best friend. “Crockers don’t masturbate — at least the ones with ovaries don’t. ”

If my mother had any say, the Crockers with testicles didn’t masturbate either. Heck, they shouldn’t even know what the word meant! Eleanor Crocker Rice was a past President of the Ladies Auxiliary for the First Baptist Church of Dallas, currently serving as an Ambassador-at-Large for the Southern Baptists of Texas and darn proud of it. She would have a stroke if anyone so much as suggested a member of her bloodline touched their naughty bits.

“You mean they lie about it. ” Bree snorted and shoved a French fry between expertly painted red lips. “Of course she’s masturbated. ”

Blushing, I remained silent.

“So, can’t rub one out on your own, huh?” Bree tilted her head to the side, her gray eyes glittering like ash-covered diamonds. “I could give you one. ”

When Bree reached for my wrist, her gaze skipping to the restroom door, I started to hyperventilate.

“Lay off. ” Melinda gave her friend a soft shoulder slug, but my relief lasted no more than five seconds before she offered an alternative. “What about that guy you were telling me about?”

Bree arched one manicured brow in confusion.