Page 111 of Once a Month

“Can I tell you something?” my friend asks.

I turn off the TV I wasn’t really watching anyway and say, “Sure.”

“I’m touching myself right now, thinking about your hand down there,” she says.

“Really?” I ask, sitting up on the sofa in the living room.

“Yes,” she says.

I notice it now, her breathy tone.

“Is it good?” I ask.

“Yes, but not as good as when you did it,” she replies.

“What does your wife think about that?” I ask.

“She wants your fingers back inside her, and I want to watch you make her come.”

“Jesus,” I say mainly to myself. “Where is she right now?”

“In the bedroom. She needed to unpack a few things,” she replies mischievously. “I’m out back by the pool.”

“Where’s your hand?”

“In my bikini,” she says.

“Would she be okay with this?” I ask.

“She told me to call you.”

“She did?”

“Yes,” my friend says, and it sounds like she’s close.

“When she comes outside, have her sit behind you and touch you,” I say.

“I’m going to come before she gets out here,” she says. “Your fingers found all my spots.”

“Do you have that lube on you right now?”

“Yes,” she says. “I can feel it in my toes.”

“Then, come,” I say.

“Tell me again, and I will,” she replies.

“Come for me,” I tell her.

“Fuck,” she says.

Then, it’s silent. I wait. This is the first time we’ve ever done this before. There’s a sound on the other end of the phone.

“You made her come, huh?” her wife says.

“She made herself come,” I reply, wondering if I’m in trouble now.

“She’s a little jet-lagged and has been horny for hours,” she says. “I’ll take it from here.”

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